


this infinity between us

by ndnickerson



Category: Nancy Drew - Carolyn Keene
Genre: 1960s, Baby, Engagement, Established Relationship, F/M, Fingerfucking, First Time, Frottage, Making Out, Married Couple, Married Sex, Mystery Stories, Post-Canon, Pregnancy, Romance, Sharing a Bed, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-16
Updated: 2013-02-16
Packaged: 2017-11-29 11:11:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 25,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/686300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ndnickerson/pseuds/ndnickerson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for littlemsmessy's birthday, from one of her prompts: Mrs. Nickerson invites Nancy to lunch, where she tells Nancy to stop being so evasive with Ned when it comes to her feelings for him. She also asks Nancy to decide once and for all whether she wants a future with Ned because her flirting with/dating other guys bothers him more than she knows. (Can be Mystery Stories or Files universe.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [littlemsmessy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemsmessy/gifts).



"Land sakes, Nancy!"

Nancy Drew tried to maintain her composure as Hannah Gruen clucked over her. She had only been in her father's house for a moment, had barely taken three steps inside, before Hannah had greeted her with no little alarm. The abandoned house on the outskirts of Carbondale she, Bess and George explored for clues that morning had been dilapidated, the interior in very poor condition, and Nancy was thankful that her only injury had been a bad scrape on her shin when a rotting floorboard had splintered under her weight. The injury looked ugly, and had smarted, but it hadn't bled much. Bess had immediately insisted that they leave, worried that the rest of the house would just collapse around them too, but Nancy had found a coded note during their search, so the sleuthing expedition hadn't been a total loss.

Nancy knew her hair was still disheveled, despite her hasty attempts to fix it on the way home, and her shoes badly scuffed. She brushed at a streak of soot and damp dust clinging to her navy wool skirt, and Hannah's frown deepened. "Take that off, and I'll go ahead and get to work on it," Hannah declared, shaking her head. "The things you get yourself into, girl..."

Nancy unfastened her skirt and slipped out of it, glancing over at the small table near the door. The new mailman had come by; a neat pile of envelopes stood waiting for Nancy and her father, and that jogged Nancy's memory. "Were you able to visit Mr. Dixon this morning?" Nancy inquired, hoping to distract the housekeeper from dwelling on her misadventures any longer.

"I did," Hannah answered, smiling. "He was very happy for that jar of peach preserves, and the arrangement you made for him was definitely appreciated. Cheered him up considerably. I'm just glad his miserable cold has almost passed."

Nancy smiled, glad that her gift to the retired mailman had brightened his day.

"Shoo! Go on upstairs and change for lunch," Hannah called over her shoulder as she took Nancy's skirt. "And then you can look at the letter that came for you."

Nancy opened her pocketbook for a second, just to confirm that she had secured the note inside, then picked up the letter with some interest, taking it upstairs with her. Although she was currently investigating some rather ominous threats made against the two Cassiti brothers, who owned a small boutique in River Heights, she couldn't deny that the prospect of another mystery to solve sent a delighted tingle down her spine. Bess claimed Nancy had to be crazy, but Nancy's idea of a perfect day _always_ involved a mystery—and she was always both ecstatic and saddened at the conclusion. She loved finding the solution, but hated that it was over.

And the letter in her hands, while a minor mystery, still puzzled her a little. For the return address she easily recognized as that of the Nickerson home in Mapleton—but the hand definitely wasn't Ned's. The beautiful even script was markedly feminine.

Nancy had deduced that Ned's mother Edith had written the letter before she opened it, but she was still pleased to find that she was right. However, she was still left wondering why Ned's _mother_ would write her a note, instead of Ned himself. Her stomach filled with butterflies for a second. Her last communication with him had been the previous Friday, and she hoped nothing had happened in the interim to cause him harm.

Surely Ned's mother would telephone her if Ned had suffered some serious injury, instead of writing.

Nancy had taken off her short navy wool jacket, and sat at the edge of her bed still wearing her ruined stockings and scuffed pumps, in a thin cream-colored slip.

_Dear Nancy,_

_I hope this letter finds you well, and that your father and Mrs. Gruen are in good health. When I spoke to Ned yesterday he told me how disappointed he was that he had been unable to accompany you on your recent trip to New Orleans._

Nancy glanced away from the letter for a second, flushing slightly. Nancy, Bess, and George had been visiting a school chum in Louisiana, and in Ned's absence, a handsome young co-ed with lovely eyes and a winning smile had attached himself to their group. Nancy had been vague and polite with him, but he had insisted on dancing with her during the few breaks they had taken from the mystery. Bess had teased Nancy that Frederick was definitely developing a crush on her, and even George had noticed. After ascertaining that she was not engaged or otherwise spoken for, Freddie had practically begged for Nancy's address and permission to write her, and Nancy had tried her best to dissuade him. When she had been unsuccessful, she had reluctantly agreed to his request.

After her brief, perfunctory response to Freddie's two letters, she had been relieved that a third letter had not followed. She hadn't wanted to hurt his feelings, and he was a perfectly delightful young man who had provided much assistance during her case. He was charming and his attention, while she had found it a touch too intense, had given her some small feeling of pleasure.

And that, Nancy reflected quietly to herself, was what she appreciated so much about Ned Nickerson. He was affectionate toward her without smothering her or insisting upon the formality of a label for their friendship. Since they had met he had always been her favorite date and escort, and though she was aware he wasn't pleased when she dated other boys, he had kept his own counsel over it.

Nancy shook her head briefly, then returned to Mrs. Nickerson's letter.

_I know that your schedule can be rather unpredictable, but I wanted to extend an invitation for you to have luncheon with me soon. At your convenience, please give me a telephone call, and we can find a date and time which will accommodate us both. In case you might be wondering, my son won't be in attendance. I just wanted to have some time to speak to you myself, and I would be most pleased if we could have a nice meal together._

Nancy read the letter once more, her brow furrowing slightly. While she had always been fond of Ned's mother, she had not found much occasion to spend time with her alone. Ned's parents had offered to provide transportation to Emerson a few times when they were going to see their son and Nancy had also been invited, and their conversation had always been pleasant and general.

For a second Nancy considered, then shook herself from her reverie when she realized that she was nowhere near presentable condition. Soon Hannah would be calling her down for lunch. Hastily Nancy washed her face and combed her hair, changing into a long-sleeved royal-blue dress with a white collar and white cuffs. Her stockings were well beyond any repair, and Hannah would certainly grumble over her shoes.

Nancy felt a little apprehensive about doing so, but after she had put on a pair of low heels, she stopped at the telephone in the upstairs hallway before heading downstairs.

"Hello?"

"Mrs. Nickerson? This is Nancy Drew. I just received your letter."

"Nancy! How wonderful to hear from you."

\--

Three days later, Nancy parked her convertible in front of the Nickersons' house, glancing down at her outfit. The crisp January weather had left a blue-white blanket of snow over River Heights and Mapleton, and Nancy had left her home considerably earlier than she normally would have, in case conditions made travel slower. She didn't want to disappoint Mrs. Nickerson by not being punctual.

That desire had even made her solve the mystery of the threats against the Cassiti brothers more quickly. That morning she had confronted the culprit and seen him taken into custody by River Heights police officers. Vincent and Michael Cassiti had been profuse in their thanks, so much that Nancy had protested and deflected their praise, self-conscious to be the center of such attention. When they had offered to make a gift of any piece of merchandise in the store as repayment for her efforts, Nancy had initially refused, then reluctantly selected a set of fine lace-trimmed handkerchiefs. While they were very reasonably priced, and the brothers had insisted yet again that she could have anything her heart desired, Nancy had again requested the handkerchiefs. They would make a nice gift for Ned's mother.

Nancy buttoned up her black wool toggle coat, made sure her scarf was firmly wrapped about her neck, then climbed out of her car, the wrapped box of handkerchiefs in her gloved hand.

Mrs. Nickerson answered the door almost immediately. "Come in, come in," Edith said with a smile, and Nancy stamped delicately on the porch mat a few times before stepping inside. Mrs. Nickerson was a small woman, slender and petite, with greying dark hair and sparkling blue eyes. She took Nancy's coat, scarf, hat and gloves, and Nancy gave her own clothes one last glance. Her powder-blue-and-white sleeveless tweed dress complimented her figure, and the coordinating boots allowed her to maneuver well enough to drive and maintain her balance in the snow. Mrs. Nickerson wore a black wool skirt and a white blouse, pearls and low heels, and when Edith wordlessly beckoned Nancy to the dining room, Nancy smiled as she followed her hostess.

"I hope you've worked up an appetite," Edith said pleasantly as she crossed to a large steaming teapot and poured a cup of piping hot apple cider flavored with cinnamon. "This should help you warm up. The day is certainly beautiful, but very cold!"

Nancy nodded in agreement, gratefully accepting the delicate cup and saucer. "Thank you so much for inviting me, Mrs. Nickerson."

"Thank you so much for accepting my invitation," Edith replied with a smile. "Now, wherever shall we begin..."

The first course of the meal was a light salad, then creamy tomato soup served with lovely crusty French bread. Their entree was ham served with crisp green beans and delicious scalloped potatoes au gratin. Afterwards Edith suggested that they retire to the living room before partaking in dessert, which was a gorgeous light coconut cake.

"Everything was delicious," Nancy told Ned's mother with a smile. She extended the box of handkerchiefs, wrapped in elegant silver and white paper, to her hostess.

"Oh, Nancy, really—"

"It is a very small gift," Nancy said apologetically.

After Edith opened it, she gave the girl a genuine smile. "This is very thoughtful, Nancy. Thank you so much."

She placed the box on the coffee table before them, then crossed her legs and rested her clasped hands on her knee.

"I need to raise a rather delicate topic."

Nancy swallowed, her heart beating faster for a moment. She had tried not to anticipate this luncheon, had tried not to become anxious about the reason behind it, but she simply wasn't accustomed to leaving such puzzles alone. Nancy would be very surprised if whatever Edith said next didn't involve her son. Above that, though, Nancy had been almost too nervous to contemplate.

"You and Ned have been seeing each other for quite some time," Edith said, her voice calm and pleasant.

Nancy nodded once, slowly. She felt very nervous, and didn't know what to do with her hands, so she left them clasped loosely in her lap.

"I realize that I may be biased, but that doesn't change the fact that my son is a very special young man. He has a good, practical head on his shoulders, a quick mind for figures, and once he graduates Emerson, his father and I are sure he will have an excellent career."

Nancy nodded. "I'm sure he will too," she said.

Edith smiled. "And in the time I've known you, I've seen that you are also a very unique young woman. I can't say that I've ever met anyone quite like you, and I know Ned hasn't either.

"He cares very deeply for you, Nancy."

Nancy flushed and looked down, idly picking at a small loose thread in the hem of her dress before she forced herself to stop fidgeting. She supposed that she should feel pleased to hear that, but she just felt nervous. If Ned felt that way...

"He has been of great help to me when he's assisted me—"

Edith raised her hand a few inches, and Nancy cut herself off, glancing down again. "I'm not talking about the help he provides you when he accompanies you on your investigations. He invites you to dances at Emerson as his date, and I believe you understand that he is not seeing anyone else, socially. He has dated before, but once he met you... he was no longer interested in anyone else. Hasn't been, for quite some time now."

Edith paused, and Nancy swallowed. "Oh," she murmured.

"I want the best for my son, and I'm sure you can understand that. I also understand that while he has dropped hints about how he sees your relationship developing in the future, he has left such comments open-ended. I believe he might be afraid of frightening you.

"But I don't share such qualms."

Nancy looked up, and it was the hardest thing in the world to keep her gaze on Ned's mother.

"I invited you here today because I was hoping that you and I could speak frankly to each other, dear. He—Ned is already looking forward to his graduation, and so are we. He will want to find a girl who can share his life, and be his companion. I know that he hopes you could be that person in his life, even if he has not said so yet.

"So I think it's only fair for you to be honest with him. If you don't share those feelings, please tell him—it may hurt him now, but it will hurt him much, much more if you wait. Whenever he hears that other young men have assisted you with your mysteries or escorted you to social events, it already disturbs him far more than he would ever tell you. The young man you met in New Orleans, for example. Ned, if he could, would be with you always, dear. It's only dedication to his studies that keeps him from doing so."

A dozen responses flitted through Nancy's head, but she stayed quiet. None of those other escorts had become an indispensable companion the way Ned had, and she had to admit to herself that if Ned was always available to help her, she would always be happy for his assistance. He had never forbid her from seeing other men, but she definitely remembered dances at Emerson, Ned's jealousy when he saw her dancing with other students for the majority of the night.

And he _had_ dropped hints, but she had always been more comfortable ignoring or deflecting them than acknowledging them. Because the life Edith described, becoming Ned's companion, becoming _Ned's wife, Mrs. Ned Nickerson_ —it meant she would no longer be _Nancy_. She wouldn't be free to explore mysteries or travel or help people. She would be tied to their home, just as Ned's mother was, marooned while he had his separate life at the office, earning money to support them. She would cook and clean and raise their children, and that would _be_ her life.

The thought just made her recoil, unhappy. Maybe in ten years, _maybe_ , that kind of life _might_ sound appealing to her... but by then, Ned would have lost interest in her and found someone else, some other girl who would happily be all those things to him.

That was the real reason she had never wanted to answer those gentle hints. She didn't want to disappoint him, she didn't want to lose his help and their relationship, and doing what Edith described would only hurt both of them.

Edith's gaze was a little sharper when Nancy glanced back up at her again. "And if you can see that kind of life with him... then tell him. He is very brave, and strong, but when it comes to telling you about how he feels, all that confidence just seems to melt away. I think he's afraid to jeopardize what you two _have_ , for what you _might_."

"I'm afraid too," Nancy admitted. "Just as you say, Ned is a very special young man, and I would hate to risk our... our friendship."

The change was subtle, but Nancy saw a small frown cross Edith's features. "Then tell him," she said, her voice quiet and firm. "I understand that impulse to... leave your options open, as it were, but please tell him so he can stop pinning his hopes and dreams on a life he can't have. It will be better for both of you, in the long run."

Ned would find someone else. Of that, Nancy had no doubt.

Even so, she was disturbed when her throat began to ache faintly with tears, when they began to glaze her eyes. "He deserves a woman who could share his life," she told Ned's mother. "And I do envy her. I've never met a finer man."

Edith paused for a beat, then gently patted Nancy's knee. "I'm sorry I've upset you. I think I might be able to have a very slender slice of coconut cake, if you're interested...?"

Nancy took a deep breath, then forced a smile. "I thank you, but I should probably start for home. The roads only seemed to be getting worse."

Edith nodded, her own smile bittersweet. "Well, I will have to send some home with you, then. Please give Mrs. Gruen and your father our best."

"I will."

Nancy wasn't sure how she managed to get through her departure. Edith served a generous slice of cake, plenty for all three of them, and wrapped it in waxed paper, handing it to Nancy. After Nancy had finished wrapping her scarf back around her, buttoning her coat and slipping on her gloves, Mrs. Nickerson had given her a quick embrace.

"Be gentle with him, please," Edith said, flashing Nancy another brief, sad smile. "I know he's brave, but... he cares so very much for you, Nancy."

_And I care for him._ Nancy returned that brief smile, and when Edith closed the door behind her, Nancy finally let out her breath in a long sigh, stepping off the porch and onto the walk. Another light dusting of snow was falling, and the sky had become a blinding, sullen grey, promising more.

Nancy blamed the biting wind for the sudden prickling glaze of tears in her eyes.

\--

When it came to the confrontation of villains, crooks and swindlers, Nancy didn't hesitate. She didn't feel shame or fear about it. Bringing dishonest people to justice was her second favorite activity, after helping those who needed her.

In most situations, she wasn't a timid girl. When it came to the discussion Ned's mother wanted Nancy to have with him, though... Nancy found herself shamefully reluctant. She didn't want to tell him through a telegram, in a letter, over the telephone; given his feelings for her, and her own for him, telling him in person was her only option.

But he had invited her to the Emerson Valentine's day festivities, to the Omega Chi Epsilon mixer afterward, and she had already accepted his invitation. Bess and George had already accepted Dave and Burt's similar invitations. He didn't have a school break between, and she was already planning to be at Emerson.

Valentine's Day.

Well, Nancy reflected, once she had that discussion with him, they would have no more dances, no more opportunities to linger in each other's arms. She knew she would miss it. She would miss _him_ more than she could ever truly say.

So, she decided, she would make it a weekend to remember. If it would be their last, she would make it as pleasant for him as she could.

When Nancy selected her dress for the occasion, though, Bess immediately objected. "Don't you want something more _festive?_ " she asked, her gaze sweeping over Nancy's dress. "Valentine's Day is a very romantic occasion, after all, and you will be spending it with Ned..."

Nancy shook her head, turning to check her own reflection one last time. "No," she said quietly. "This is what I want."

During the long drive to Emerson, the three girls chatted about Nancy's most recent case, their plans for her birthday, what the summer might bring, and while the prospect of finding another mystery did lighten her spirits a bit, Bess and George still noticed Nancy's heavy mood. She deflected their concern, though, always turning the conversation to lighter topics.

She didn't want to talk to Bess or George or anyone, really, about what she was feeling. Ned was special to her, and in her heart of hearts, she knew she would never meet another man like him. Having this discussion with him would be one of the hardest things she had ever done.

For once, Nancy did not find a mystery, and Ned seemed to be both relieved and a little disappointed. He enjoyed the opportunity assisting her presented to spend time with her, debating different theories, playing whatever role she needed him to play, and while plenty of events were scheduled to fill her time, she still found herself both dreading and wishing for another puzzle to solve. She wanted something to distract her—but she couldn't bear the thought of it, either.

From the first moment Ned greeted the three of them at Omega Chi, when his warm dark-eyed gaze had lingered on Nancy, she had been dreading the thought of leaving him. She didn't want to waste time she could be spending with him, not if this was the last weekend she would ever share with him.

He was a very handsome man, but Nancy hadn't lied to Edith when she had said Ned was unlike anyone else she had ever met. He was sympathetic and kind-hearted, intelligent and athletic, charming and protective. When she was around him, she felt a warmth she couldn't quantify or explain, as though just being in his presence was enough to give her a soft, happy glow. Oh, if they had never needed to label this...

But she wasn't being fair to him, to let him stay devoted to her when it could never end the way he wanted.

On the night of the dance Nancy dressed and checked her reflection one last time. Her golden hair shone, the ends just brushing her shoulders. Her gown was black, the bodice strapless and the hem floor-length, with a black lace overlay that came all the way up to her collarbone, all the way down to her wrists. Even though she very much wanted to dress in the customary way, in blush-pink or deep crimson, she couldn't bring herself to do it. It was the last dance they would attend together, and she supposed that, somehow, some part of her was mourning at the knowledge.

Ned's eyes lit up when he saw her outfit, and Nancy melted a little inside, smiling up at him. "You look very beautiful tonight, Nancy," he told her, offering her his arm.

"And you look very handsome," she told him, sliding her arm through his. He looked very crisp and proper in his black suit, black tie, and snow-white shirt, and every inch the genuinely charming man he had always been to her. He, along with the rest of his fraternity brothers, wore a red carnation in his buttonhole, and when he solemnly presented her with the single red rose he, like each of the brothers, had purchased for his date, she gave him a soft smile, his eyes sparkling when they gazed into hers.

She gave him every dance she could, only leaving his arms twice, and swallowed her nervousness and sadness as he twirled her, clearly delighted. They danced until they were both exhausted, and when she saw the tenderness in his eyes, she had to force herself not to drop her smile, not to show him what she was feeling. Instead she focused on the safety she felt in his arms, how much she savored his closeness. She would always fondly remember this.

The party back at the Omega Chi house was crowded, and the boys had really outdone themselves in their preparations. The long table in the dining room was decorated with vases of pink and red roses, flickering white candles, and paper hearts. The raspberry sweetheart punch was delicious. Bess and Dave were holding hands as they sampled the heart-shaped pink and white frosted sugar cookies, and George and Burt were twirling each other and laughing. One of the Omega brothers turned on the radio and soon most of them were dancing.

The night was cold enough that no one wanted to linger outside, but when Nancy suggested that she and Ned go out for a minute to get some air, Ned agreed. They bundled into their winter coats, scarves and gloves, and after the music and laughter inside fraternity, the silence and stillness that fell over them after they closed the door behind them was profound.

And fitting, Nancy thought.

She waited a moment, then took a breath. "Your mother and I had a conversation a few weeks ago," she said, her voice quiet and firm. "She mentioned that since your graduation is fast approaching, you had been considering the future..."

"I have," Ned agreed.

Nancy looked down. "She also told me that... you haven't been entirely honest with me, about how much it upsets you when I date other people."

Ned made a soft sound. "She said that?" he murmured.

Nancy nodded. "I hope you understand how much you mean to me," she said quietly.

"I don't," he replied, and when he touched her elbow, Nancy swallowed hard before she glanced over at him. "Nancy, I am not at all sure how much I mean to you."

Her gaze shied away from his. "Ned, I... I care about you very deeply."

"And I care for you very deeply," he replied, almost instantly. "Nancy..."

Nancy blinked hard, fighting tears. "But that doesn't matter," she said. "You won't wish to waste your time with me anymore, and I understand."

Ned made a soft noise, taking off his glove, and then reached up and touched her cheek. "But I'm afraid that I _don't_ understand," he replied. "What do you mean, waste my time...?"

"You will be looking for a wife," she said, her voice trembling faintly. "And that woman will be very lucky."

Ned was quiet for a moment. Then he left her side, walking over to the swing at the edge of the porch. In the colder weather, it had been left unused, and the seat was covered in snowdrift that Ned brushed away. Nancy waited for him to take the few steps back to her and touch her arm, and just feeling his touch through the thick wool of her coat was enough to leave her both powerless to do anything but follow him, and to send another wave of sadness over her. Oh, how terrible she felt. If only she could just spend the rest of the party wrapped in his arms, just let herself forget for a little while that soon he would no longer be hers...

Nancy shook her head. He had never _been_ hers. And that was the way it had to be.

They sat down on the swing together, and Ned reached for her, his fingertips cool against her cheek. He gently guided her so she was facing him, and yet again Nancy tried to swallow the ache of tears in her throat, but they just wouldn't go away.

"I know you may be predisposed to be mysterious, but, Nancy, please. Clearly you're upset about something, but I don't understand..."

His dark eyes were tender and so sweet as they gazed into hers, and her heart ached. He was the first man who had ever kissed her, and while the kisses they had shared had been soft and brief, the feel of his fingertips against her skin, so close to him, on such a night, made her almost delirious with desire for that closeness again.

But they would never share it again.

She moved slowly, almost dreamily, as she tugged her glove from her hand. It would be so much easier if tonight was just a terrible dream, if her conversation with Edith had never happened. Nancy reached up and lightly touched Ned's cheek, and at the contact, a pair of tears spilled from her lower lashes, tracing down her face.

Ned brushed them away with his thumbs and Nancy struggled mightily against her longing for him. She wanted to move into his arms, to linger in the safety he provided, to never let him go.

But ignoring what was between them, and what never could be, had brought her to this place.

"You're an amazing man, Ned. Once you graduate, you'll have such prospects..."

He nodded. "I've already made a few contacts in Chicago," he said, his eyes bright. "A few firms in particular that I think could be a good fit for me."

Nancy nodded. "And I would have expected nothing less," she told him with a smile. "In all the time I've known you, I've always been impressed by you, by your ambition and determination."

"And I by you," Ned murmured, and when his gaze dropped to her lips, Nancy felt a familiar tingle slide down her spine—and she had to shake herself. No matter how strongly she wanted to give in, to put this off just another day, she would just hurt them both. "You are the most fascinating girl—no, _person_ , I've ever met."

"And part of settling down... you'll be looking for a wife."

"Oh?"

Nancy tipped her chin down, closing her eyes. "Please don't tease me," she whispered.

"I'm not. I'm just genuinely surprised to hear this."

"But it is true. Isn't it?"

Ned's thumbs stroked her cheeks before he crooked his finger under her chin and gently tipped it up again. "You say it as though I'm planning to put an advertisement in the newspaper. Diploma, yes; promising career, yes; next on the list, wife."

"You've always said that you plan on settling down one day."

"One day," he agreed, with a small nod. "With... with you. If you wish."

Nancy pulled in a trembling breath. "But I can't," she whispered, and she felt like her heart was truly breaking. "I can't be that woman."

She saw his handsome face fall, briefly, before he mastered himself, making his expression more neutral again. "Because you don't feel that way about me."

"How I feel about you... that doesn't matter," she said, blinking another pair of tears down her cheeks. "I—"

"What do you mean, it doesn't matter?"

She shook her head. "I mean that I'm not ready to give up my freedom or my life or doing what I love," she said, her voice firm. "I don't want to be tied to homemaking and children, not yet and maybe not ever. What I told you, when you were home for break..."

"The reporting," Ned said, nodding.

"I know it will be hard, but I think it might be perfect," she said, and she could hear a faint pleading note in her voice, begging him to understand the way he had seemed to understand when she had told him about the possibility. Reporting was in no way glamorous, and the city editor of the major newspaper in Chicago had been slow to believe she was serious about pursuing a career as an investigative journalist, when she had approached him. She had a suspicion that his granting her an audience was partially due to the cache of her name and reputation, and partially from his own morbid curiosity. The newspaper might gain readers who recognized her name from other articles focused on her sleuthing, or at least that was the editor's belief—even if she didn't turn out to be a good reporter.

Part of her didn't mind so much what it took to get her foot in the door, to get him to give her an opportunity to prove herself. The rest of her was determined that she would be the hardest-working reporter on his staff, if he let her.

"And if that's what you love, that's what makes you happy, then you should pursue it," he told her. "You'd be the most fearsome reporter the city has ever seen. Mobsters would quake in their boots, if they knew you were on their trail."

His dark eyes were warm, but she didn't sense that he was being insincere.

"But I can't..." For a second Nancy wished that he wouldn't make her say it, but he waited. "But I can't ask you to wait for me."

"To wait for you... Nancy, exactly one thing matters to me, and that's how you feel about me. I haven't wanted to press you on it, and I've been more than a little dismayed... very disappointed, in fact, when you allow other men to escort you. I was under the impression that you didn't see our relationship as exclusive, that maybe you were content to accept my assistance on your cases without wishing anything further..."

Nancy shook her head. "You... you have always been my favorite," she told him, searching his eyes, and her voice was trembling faintly. "I'm always disappointed when you aren't able to accompany me on my adventures."

"And those men who step in when I can't be there," Ned said, his voice dropping to a murmur as the freezing wind picked up—but she couldn't feel the cold, not with the sudden charge in the air between them as he glanced from her lips back up to her eyes, dipping his head. "I always fear that they might... take advantage..."

She was very sure that, the closer his head came to hers, the more danger she was in. She couldn't resist it, though, couldn't fight it, and when she felt his breath against her lips, then the lightest brush of his lips over hers, she closed her eyes, the electricity between them sending a glorious tingle all the way down to her toes. His lips felt just a little rough against hers, and when he stroked his fingertips against her jaw, over her hair, she opened her mouth just a little—

And she shivered when he barely touched the tip of his tongue to her mouth.

Her curiosity got the better of her, as it almost always did, and when he deepened their kiss she didn't stop him, didn't pull back. He tipped his head a little and she tipped hers accordingly, forgetting for the moment that this would only hurt them both later, to give in to it. All she could hear was the urgent pulse of her own heart in her ears, and all she could feel was him.

How could this feel so right, so very right, if they could not be together?

Nancy's ungloved hand was resting on Ned's shoulder when they parted, and for a moment she was left speechless. She was warm, but that warmth was nothing compared to the heat that swept over her from the expression in Ned's eyes.

"I can honestly say," she murmured, "that none of them have ever taken advantage in quite that way."

Ned cupped her face again. "But you say that I won't wait for you," he murmured. "Do you honestly think that one day you might want to give up sleuthing?"

"I..." Nancy faltered, unwilling to give him any false hope.

"Because I don't," Ned replied. "Maybe reporting will fill that need in you, but part of what drew me to you was your curiosity and how very fearless you were. I don't see that changing. Nor am I naive enough to believe that your determination and focus will lessen if you become a reporter."

"But, Ned..." Nancy shook her head. "I can't be both."

"Can't be both a reporter and a wife?"

Another shiver went down Nancy's spine when she heard him say that word in reference to her. "I can't be the housekeeper and cook and mother _and_ a reporter, or a detective..."

"I think..." Ned looked at her lips again. "I think you're looking at this the wrong way. And I did too, for a while. As I told you, if you and I feel the same way, then we'll work it out. Because, Nan... I... I love you. I have loved you for the longest time."

Nancy swallowed hard. "You do?"

He nodded. "And I've been trying to tell myself for so long that I needed to just be what I could to you, because regardless of how you feel about me... I just want you to be happy."

"And that's all I want for you, too," she murmured, her gaze locked to his. "It breaks my heart to know that I'll have to let you go, so you can be happy..."

"But you just don't understand, detective," he said, leaning down, brushing his lips against her cheek. "I won't be happy _without_ you."

She shivered again as he slipped his arm around her. "I suppose I'm just wondering how I've misunderstood what it is you want," she murmured. "How have I been looking at this the wrong way?"

"Because... when you imagine what it means to be a wife, what do you imagine?"

Nancy paused for a moment. "Your mother," she admitted. "She always seems very collected and proper, and she keeps the house in order, cooks and cleans, she's devoted to you and your father... And that seems to be the whole of her life. Volunteering, the bridge club and the women's circle at your church, and taking care of you and your father."

"And that, as far as I know, is what makes her happy," Ned said. "I want you to do what makes _you_ happy. And if that's tracking down leads and stories, then that's what I want you to do." He gave her a small smile. "As much as I want to be with you, if I thought you would be miserable with me... then I would let you go."

"But I'm so afraid _you_ will be miserable with _me_ ," she admitted to him.

"If I didn't know you so well, if I was walking into this expecting to change you, then I think I _would_ be miserable," he told her. "Just put a little faith in me, Nan. If you believe in me, if you believe we _can_ find a way, then we will."

She gave him a brief smile. "I... I don't know what love is, not when it comes to you," she said quietly. "I know that I love my father and Hannah, Bess and George, but the way I feel about you is different. It's been that way since the day we met at the Raybolt estate. I miss you so much when you're not around, and every time you call me or write me, it just makes me wish all the more fiercely that I could see you. When you touch me, I feel almost lightheaded with happiness. I love being with you. I love dancing with you; I love... being close to you, as we just were."

"But you never told me."

"Because I knew I could not be Mrs. Ned Nickerson," she said, sadly. "Not the way I thought you would need."

"I don't _need_ Mrs. Ned Nickerson," he told her. "I need _you_. I need Nancy Drew. Who, it seems, feels the same way about me as I do about her."

She held his gaze, her own eyes shining. "You feel the same?"

"Very much," he told her, stroking her cheek. "I have never felt this way about anyone, and I don't think I ever will again. Because no one else could ever be _you_."

Nancy caught herself gazing at his mouth, then averted her eyes. "I can't help feeling that your mother will be disappointed," she murmured.

"How so?"

"I think she wants the best for you. Someone who will be the perfect wife."

Ned leaned forward, brushing his lips against hers again. "If you'll have me, Nancy, I will be the best husband to you that I can be," he whispered. "And that's all that matters to me."

Nancy's head was spinning, especially when he kissed her again. She couldn't seem to marshal her thoughts. At the beginning of the evening, she had told herself to treasure every small moment, every dance, every embrace, so she could remember fondly what they'd had; now, somehow, all the fears that had cast a pall over the evening, for her, had been stripped away, one by one, and she had no idea how to feel or react.

Ned _wanted_ to be her husband. And he didn't want to do what she had always feared. He didn't want to buy a lovely suburban home and maroon her inside for the rest of her life, cooking and cleaning and raising children.

She had thought marriage would be a prison. But he... he would let her be _free_.

When he pulled back, she bowed her head. She didn't doubt his sincerity, but she also knew how deeply Ned respected his parents and their opinions and beliefs, and she was still unconvinced that Edith Nickerson would be pleased with what he had just told her. Edith had talked about _settling down_ , when Nancy's life was almost always the opposite.

Save one way. She loved that she didn't have to hide the way she felt from Ned anymore. Just as he had resolved, she had resolved to leave her feelings for him guarded and hidden, since a lasting bond between them wasn't a possibility.

_It still may not be_ , she admitted to herself. _He may believe what he says now, in the heat of the moment, but in the morning? After his graduation? After... after the wedding?_

Ned kissed her one more time, and when they heard the door open they sprang apart—but not in time to truly conceal what they were doing. "Oh," Bess said, clearly embarrassed to be interrupting. "I was worried something had happened to you..."

"Something _has_ ," George pointed out with a grin. "Apparently they came out here to cool down, but I don't believe it worked..."

Nancy stood, smoothing the skirt of her dress, and Ned followed. "May I bring you a glass of punch?" he asked Nancy, and she wondered if her chums could hear the faint note of humor in his voice. Punch was the last thing on her mind.

"Yes, please," she replied, willing the soft blush she could feel in her cheeks to fall. She exchanged a glance with Bess and George; Bess's eyes were bright, and George was already laughing, eager to rejoin the bustle of the party.

Ned reached for her hand and squeezed it before they walked back inside. _Trust me_ , he mouthed, and gave her a smile.

She dipped her head once, her lips curving up a little.

She would try. That was the least she could do.


	2. Chapter 2

A month had passed since Ned's graduation ceremonies at Emerson College. Nancy, her father, Hannah, Bess, and George had all been in attendance, along with Mr. and Mrs. Nickerson, heartily congratulating Ned, Burt, and Dave on their accomplishments—but especially Ned. He had been offered and accepted a position with a thriving chemical firm in Chicago, and his smile couldn't have been happier. Once the ceremony was over, when he was still wearing his cap and gown, he came over to the crowd of his guests and greeted each one of them in turn. He saved Nancy for last, and she was a little surprised when he embraced her hard, lifting her a few inches off the ground. She had been a little flushed, but pleased by the gesture.

While his last semester at Emerson had been a busy one, as he lined up job interviews and finished his senior projects, he and Nancy had made time to talk to each other as often as they could, between his schoolwork and her mysteries and assignments. The topic of marriage hadn't been the only one they had discussed, but they had talked about it many times, and his conviction hadn't wavered. He was willing to listen to her fears and doubts, and answer them with his own. As far as he was concerned, their being married would mean their having a house together, spending time together when they weren't at work, and helping each other in any way they could—and he wasn't discounting himself from that responsibility. Just because he had a good job, he had told her, that didn't mean he didn't want to help her with her investigations whenever he could.

"And children?" she had asked, hesitantly.

"We are still young," he had pointed out. "And on that point, I do believe you said you would like to wait. I can agree to that, as long as you keep the possibility on the table. I'm not saying I expect a bouncing baby boy on my knee within a year of our marriage, but I also would hate to never have a child of our own."

Nancy had considered for a moment. "That's fair," she had told him quietly.

"So you are not entirely unwilling to even contemplate motherhood?" She could hear that faint humorous tone in his voice again.

"I am unwilling to contemplate motherhood _alone_ ," she had replied firmly.

"Nor would I ever have expected you to, darling."

A part of her had felt almost cruel for doing so, but she had brought up each of her fears with him. What if his parents were displeased, their expectations dashed, were they to see Ned in such an unconventional household? What if, despite all his assurances to the contrary, he _did_ find that he was unhappy that Nancy most likely wouldn't have the time to keep house for him?

"First off, Miss Drew, I am contemplating marriage to _you_ , not my parents," he had replied. "If either of us find we're unhappy with the arrangement—and while I think you are highly intelligent, and I have occasional flashes of brilliance myself, neither of us is infallible, nor have we ever been married before to know what it's like—then we will find some other arrangement that works for us. Because I wish to be yours exclusively, and you mine." His voice had gone a little deeper. "On _that_ particular point I will not budge. Many perfectly fine women make their living as housekeepers, and we shall find one of them. There's only one Nancy Drew in this world, on the other hand, and I do not intend to see her get away. Not without a fight."

Nancy had sighed, a touch overdramatically. "Well, my dear, since I sincerely doubt I will ever find a man so very accommodating..."

"Not to mention handsome."

"Or brave, or resourceful..."

"Oh, stop. You're embarrassing me."

Nancy had grinned, aware that he could not see it over the telephone. "I suppose I can accede to that _one_ point."

One tiny, infinitesimal, minor fact remained, however. While they had discussed marriage, Ned had not yet asked her formally to marry him, nor had she agreed. She wondered if he was taking the fact as given, understood... but it was unlike him to leave such a thing in any doubt. As he had told her, their relationship had remained undefined for so very long because he feared putting a name to it would upset or frighten her.

Even so, she was no longer sure what he was to her. Her presumptive fiancé? Her boy friend?

A few days earlier, Nancy's father had let it slip that he and Ned had spoken. Despite Nancy's best efforts, he had clammed up about it immediately, saying that whatever they had discussed had been between the two of them, and none of her concern. Even so, his eyes had sparkled with mischief, tinged with something Nancy had been unable to identify.

That Saturday, Nancy heard a knock on her bedroom door, as she was just giving her reflection one last glance. Her vanity had been cluttered with the powder compacts and lipstick tubes she had sorted through in her preparations, and she was just organizing it again. "Come in," she called.

Nancy's father opened the door and stepped inside, slipping his hands into his pockets. He had actually taken the day to play a round of golf with some of his good friends instead of spending time at the office, and he was still dressed for it, in a short-sleeved collared top and slacks. Nancy's heart, as it always did, rose a little in affection when she saw her father. He was a distinguished, intelligent man, and she loved him deeply. "I hope Mr. McPherson has been treating you well," he said.

Nancy's work at the newspaper had not been what she had expected, but she had not been entirely surprised by her initial disappointment. Mr. McPherson, the editor, had started out assigning her society events, puff pieces, which he said would help her acclimate herself to reporting in a less stressful environment than the crime stories she wished to ultimately cover. He had been incredibly patronizing, and Nancy had smiled and agreed. If he wished for her to acclimate herself, she fully intended to do so.

Through the connections she had made at those same society events she had been expected to breathlessly recount for the newspaper's like-minded readership, Nancy had discovered that some of the city's most affluent households had been targeted for burglary by a gang of resourceful, intelligent thieves—and she, through careful investigation, had both recovered the stolen merchandise and brought the thieves to justice.

Mr. McPherson had been far, far less patronizing after that particular story had crossed his desk.

While the exciting part for her was always the investigation, her writing flowed more smoothly now, and required fewer passes from the copyeditor. Since she often worked on her assignments when the rest of the household was in bed, Hannah had insisted that Nancy's typewriter be installed in the usually vacant downstairs sitting room, where she could have plenty of space for her files, typewriter ribbons and notes, without the clatter waking her father and Hannah at three o'clock in the morning. Her father was indulgent of his only daughter the majority of the time, but the first time she had been at the newspaper office until two o'clock in the morning working on a story, he had insisted that she not stay at the office past eleven o'clock, and she had agreed, if grudgingly.

Nancy had spent Saturday morning at a recognition ceremony in the city. A young firefighter had been singled out for his heroic actions during a house fire the month before, and Nancy had already finished her first draft of the brief biographical interview Mr. McPherson expected her to turn in Monday morning. On the way back to River Heights, though, she had stopped by a police station in Chicago, and had been gratified when the officers she asked for tips had taken her seriously. Her work on the burglary case in particular had impressed many of them, who initially dismissed her as a pretty, inquisitive anomaly.

"He is, most of the time," Nancy said with a smile. Mr. McPherson had joked that he should always keep her on the society news, if she could do so much with so little. Any hack could make a crime story exciting. It took talent to turn a gala fundraiser into front-page above-the-fold fodder.

"And Ned is escorting you somewhere tonight?"

Nancy nodded, looking down at her gown. During a recent shopping expedition, Bess had insisted that Nancy buy one of the new Mondrian-patterned dresses, but for tonight, she had selected something a little more classic. She wore a sleeveless sheath made of green silk, and had paired the dress with a pearl necklace and pearl earrings. The Mondrian dress was stylish, of that Nancy had no doubt, but she hated that it made her look less mature, more frivolous. She needed to be taken seriously for her job, and white go-go boots felt the opposite. "Our destination is a surprise, though, so I can only hope that I'm dressed appropriately."

"I'm sure you are. You look very lovely tonight, my dear."

Nancy smiled at her father. "Thank you."

Carson returned her smile, his own a little bittersweet. "You know that I love you very much," he said. "When you decided to pursue this career, I did hope that you would find it a good fit, and I think that you have."

She nodded. "Very much so."

"And you understand that, no matter what, no matter what path you choose, I will support you, Nancy."

"Unless it involves being at the _Sun_ building after eleven o'clock," she teased him, but let her smile drop. "Yes, I understand. And I'm grateful."

He nodded. "You're growing up," he said softly. "Into such a beautiful and strong young woman. And yet, when I look at you, sometimes it feels like just yesterday you were a baby in my arms, a six-year-old in pigtails going to her first day of school..." He shook his head. "I forget that there will ever come a day that I will have to let you go."

Nancy crossed to her father and embraced him fiercely. "You need never do that," she told him firmly. "I will always be your little girl."

"Until the day you choose to become a wife," he said, patting her back. " _If_ you choose—and you need not make that choice unless it is your wish to do so. If you decide to stay here for the rest of your life, I would be pleased to have you here... but ever since you solved your first mystery, I could see that River Heights would not be enough for my Nancy. You need to stretch your wings, dear, and I have been so proud of all the work you've done, all the help you've given those who needed it."

Nancy took a small step back, smiling at her father. "It pleases me more than I can say, to know you're proud of me," she admitted. "In you, I've always had such an amazing example, and I can only try to be like you."

"Then I hope you might find someone who makes you as happy as your mother made me," he said, quietly. "If you have not already."

Nancy colored faintly, but didn't answer her father directly. "I hope so too," she said.

"And no matter what choices you make or where you go from here, know that I'm always here for you. Hannah, too."

Her father's words were still ringing in Nancy's ears when she came downstairs, ready for Ned to pick her up for their date. He hadn't said it, but she had heard it; if she decided to marry Ned, he would be happy for her, but if she decided not to, he wouldn't pressure her into making that decision.

Maybe she and Ned had grown accustomed to discussing their life together as though it was a foregone conclusion, but it wasn't. It didn't have to be.

She really was lucky, Nancy reflected. Bess's parents were happy when she brought promising young men home, and George's parents had been known to set her up on dates with sons of their friends. Nancy's father had never interfered in her love life—or interfered with much of anything.

Her father was in the kitchen, talking to Hannah about plans their housekeeper had for the garden, when Nancy entered, her small clutch purse in her hands, her lips pressed firmly together. "Dad," she said quietly.

"Yes, dear?"

Nancy took a deep breath. "Were Ned and I to... to decide to marry, would we have your blessing?"

"Nancy..."

"I know it's my decision," she added, as Hannah Gruen brought her hand to her mouth, delighted tears rising in her brown eyes. "I understand that. But your opinion of him is important to me."

"He's a good man," Carson said, a faint smile on his face. "And from the moment I talked to him, I could tell that his fondest wish in this life is to make you happy. If he asks..." Some small shift in her father's expression told Nancy for sure that Ned had already discussed it with him. "And you accept, then yes, you will have my blessing. Fully and unequivocally."

Nancy was just crossing the kitchen to embrace her father when Hannah exclaimed, "Oh, Nancy. That boy's only had eyes for you since the moment you met."

When the doorbell rang, the three of them glanced at each other, their eyes shining. "I'll get it," Hannah announced, dabbing at her eyes with the corner of her apron. "Likely to scare the poor boy off, going on like this..."

Carson patted Nancy's back. "And, clearly, you will have Hannah's full blessing as well... which, if I am not mistaken, carries no small significance."

Nancy gave her father a small grin. "And I'm sure Ned would be pleased to hear it. One of his primary joys in life is Hannah's double chocolate cake."

In the moment before Hannah announced Ned's arrival, Carson patted his daughter's arm. "I will never be convinced that anyone is good enough for you, my dear," he said. "But I also think the man in the next room will never give up trying to be."

\--

"Welcome to the _Sun_ , may I direct you?"

"No thanks," Ned replied to the receptionist with a smile, raising the paper bag in his hand in greeting. "I know exactly where I'm going. Third floor, fifth desk on the right."

At least, Ned was hoping that the desk would be occupied when he found it.

Despite the hour, the bullpen on the third floor was still half-full. He could hear keys striking the page with vehemence, murmured and rapid conversations, the occasional groan of frustration. The building was permeated by the strange, heady aroma of ink and stale coffee.

But there she was, idly tapping a pencil on the surface of her desk as she cast a fierce glare at her telephone. The engagement ring he had placed on her finger nearly a year before sparkled as she swung the eraser back up, just to send it swooping back down with a swipe of her thumb. She looked tired and somewhat irritated, her pretty mouth turned down in a small frown.

"Hello, gorgeous."

The change in Nancy's expression when she heard Ned's voice was immediate. "Ned!" she exclaimed, a surprised, delighted grin on her face as she dropped the pencil and vaulted out of her chair. He closed the distance between them, wrapping her in a one-armed hug as she embraced him. "What are you doing here?"

He lifted the paper bag in his other hand again. "Thought you could use some dinner."

"Oh... oh, you are so incredibly thoughtful," she said, kissing his cheek. "I wasn't going to be able to leave until this source called me, and I'm famished."

Ned took a seat beside her desk as she vanished around a corner, returning a moment later with napkins and bottles of soda. "How was work?"

"Good," he replied, dividing the food between them. He had picked up three cheeseburgers and a large order of fries, and her eyes lit up when she saw the crispy, perfectly golden potatoes on the plate. Immediately she picked one up, sighing in delight as she took a bite. "And yours?"

Nancy shrugged. "Good," she replied. "Better, now."

Ned had never thought Nancy was the kind of girl to shy away from any challenge, and reporting had definitely been a challenge. She worked incredibly hard at it, too. Some nights, if she was working on an especially big story, it took a good ten minutes of cajoling, plus a few kisses, to convince her to take a break for long enough to have a meal with him. He treasured the occasional weekend she was actually able to take off work, without a case or a mystery to claim her time and attention.

"So, plumbing this weekend?" Nancy asked, picking up a napkin so she could wipe the grease from her fingers. She had already finished half her cheeseburger.

Ned nodded, swallowing his own bite. "Should be finished up by tomorrow night. Then we'll hang drywall and paint, and everything will be ahead of schedule."

Ned, when he had been considering options for where to live in the city, had discovered a small house in a quiet, pleasant neighborhood a short drive from his workplace. The lot around it was of a decent size, although the interior needed some repair. The price had been excellent.

After Nancy had accepted his proposal of marriage, Ned had driven her out to it one Saturday, and they had walked through all the rooms. The kitchen was small and cramped; Ned had imagined aloud taking it out completely, expanding the living room area, adding on a large room in the space currently occupied by a large rickety porch, putting in a new kitchen and a second bathroom.

"That sounds like a lot of work," she had admitted frankly, turning to face him.

Ned had shrugged. "My grandfather's a carpenter," he pointed out. "My other grandfather has done renovation work like this on their house, and it looks amazing. It will take time, but I consider it an investment... and I want it to be a home we can both enjoy."

"And then, once it's finished..."

"Once it's finished I'll carry you over the threshold," Ned had told her, and had been gratified to see her color slightly in response. "If you say the word, I'll speak to the realtor. Or we can keep looking. Would you rather we find somewhere a bit more modern?"

Nancy had considered for a moment, then shook her head. "No," she said softly. "I like the idea of _our_ making a home. This is a very pretty neighborhood, and very convenient to both your work and mine."

"So, yes?"

She had nodded, and Ned had scooped her up, embracing her. "With one condition," she had told him. "Make sure the new room has big windows."

"Of reinforced glass, no doubt."

The renovations were going smoothly, for the most part, and Ned was pleased with the progress. Nancy, with Hannah's assistance, had selected the fixtures for the kitchen, and the second bathroom would be finished soon. The renovations to the kitchen area had allowed Ned to put a small alcove in the living room, to accommodate Nancy's typewriting desk and files, all that she would need to work from home.

Ned's favorite room, however, had to be the large, airy one he and his grandfathers had built at the back of the house—and Nancy had helped too, when she could, ably wielding a hammer, her blue eyes intent as she had listened to Ned's grandfather explain how he was setting up the wiring. Ned had always loved how curious Nancy was, about practically everything; he had never seen her pass up some new knowledge, if she could help it. Just as she had asked, the new room had large windows, which let in plenty of the afternoon light.

He couldn't wait for the work to be finally finished, to walk into their home without plastic sheeting flapping or tools scattered across the kitchen table. He couldn't wait to take her through the rooms and show her the home he had helped build for her.

He couldn't wait to cross the threshold with her in his arms, to carry her to the bedroom, as his new bride.

Ned took his time with the meal, and soon he and Nancy were discussing her current story, going over theories and possible angles. Being able to share her work with her like this exhilarated Ned in a way that his actual job didn't; while he had found the chemical firm a great employer and had never regretted accepting their offer, nothing there could quite top sharing the excitement he could see in Nancy's bright eyes, or the satisfaction he felt when they struck upon some new theory or solution.

Once their dinner was finished, he bid her a reluctant goodbye, disappointed that the call she was expecting had not come while they were eating. She was clearly tired and ready to go home, too; in a few months, she would be able to drive to their home instead of her father's after work every night. Just a few short months.

Their engagement had been long enough already for Bess to accept Dave's proposal of marriage, plan their wedding, and actually go through with the ceremony. The newly united Mr. and Mrs. Dave Evans had settled into a home not terribly far from the one Ned had bought, and Dave never failed to tease Ned about dragging his feet on actually marrying Nancy.

But Ned didn't mind. She had accepted his proposal, and he was already quite sure that his heart belonged entirely to her. Their relationship had always moved slowly, and at least, unlike some other unlucky men he knew, he was not rushing into this with his eyes closed. Once their house was ready, they would be married, in a small, intimate ceremony at his parents' church. She had not wanted a large, lavish wedding, and he had agreed with her; only their families and close friends would be invited. At the reception after, they would greet all their friends from Emerson and work acquaintances, before heading off for their honeymoon.

While Ned was very much looking forward to their wedding, it was the time they would have together afterward—alone on their honeymoon, and after, in their home—that he anticipated even more.

Feeling restless once he arrived at the house, Ned decided to get a head start on the next day's tasks, and changed into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He listened to the radio as he worked, paying close attention to every nail, screw, and bit of insulation he handled. He was working on _their_ home, for _her_ , and he wanted it to be perfect.

He was just standing up to stretch when he heard a knock at the door. Hoping against hope that it might be his fiancée, he crossed the living room to answer it—and was delighted to find Nancy was standing there. The stormy look on her face, however, had put her pretty mouth into a pout.

"Nancy?"

She looked up at him, her brow clearing. "I know it's late, but I saw the light was on," she said. "Is it... do you mind if I come in?"

Ned stepped back, gesturing for her to enter. "You're always welcome, sweetheart."

She gave him a smile as he dusted his hands on his jeans, then took her coat for her. She stepped out of the heels she customarily wore to work, sighing as she wiggled her toes.

"Bad news?"

"That—? Oh, no. No bad news. The source finally called, and I was able to file the story." She took the last few steps to the couch and flopped down onto it with a sigh. "No, it's Janice. The receptionist? I'm sure you saw her on the way in."

Ned nodded. "She's new, isn't she? Do you want a drink?"

Nancy nodded. "Yes, please. Thank you," she called, as Ned went to the kitchen to draw her a glass of water. "Anyway, when I was on the way out, she asked me who you were, and she didn't believe me when I said you were my fiancé. Then she asked when the wedding was, and when I told her August, she said," Nancy took a deep breath, "that I sure was working hard, for it being my last few months at the newspaper."

"What—" Ned began.

"Because of _course_ I was going to quit as soon as I was married!" Nancy burst out, reaching for the glass of water, and took a quick sip. "There was no doubt in her mind! And I... _oh_! It just made me furious."

Ned sat down beside her and patted her shoulder. "I'm sure she didn't mean anything by it."

"But she _did!_ " Nancy insisted. "She meant that any regular girl would be happy to just put her feet up the rest of her life and let her husband earn the money. Like I was crazy for working if you were making enough to support us both. And the way she _said_ it! As though... _ugh!_ " 

Ned took the glass out of Nancy's hand after she took another sip, then wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "I'm sorry it upset you."

Nancy sniffed, looking down. "What upset me more was thinking that maybe she's right."

Ned pulled back a little, looking at her face. "What?"

"Not... not that I feel that way, because I don't, but that... that maybe you feel that way. I know what your mother said..."

Ned shook his head immediately. "Nancy, sweetheart, she... she wasn't trying to upset you."

Ned's mother had made the comment during one of the wedding showers a month earlier. When one of Ned's aunts had commented that Nancy indeed might work for a while, at least until their baby was born, Edith had agreed immediately. Everything would change, she had said knowingly, once Nancy and Ned had their first child. Working, after that...

And they had trailed off, and Nancy had overheard, flushing. Edith had already been surprised when Nancy had indicated she wanted to work at the newspaper even after their wedding. Even though Edith meant well, Nancy had still bristled a little.

Ned understood it, though, and while he wasn't entirely surprised by her next words, that didn't make them hurt any less.

"We can still call it off, you know."

Ned reached over and cupped her face in his large hands. "I have no intention of calling anything off," he said firmly.

"I just... I hate the idea that you feel that way too. That you're just afraid to tell me. Because I know I work a lot of hours, I know you wish we could spend more time together, and I wish that too, but... if we're married, and you start... resenting what we've said..."

Ned leaned down and stopped her with a kiss. "Stop," he murmured against her mouth. "I love you and I love that what you're doing makes you so happy. Happy most of the time, anyway. And maybe it's not very nice of me, maybe it's a little selfish, but when other guys say that their wives threw a great dinner party or redecorated the living room? I get to say that the woman I love just took down a crooked politician or helped show how deplorable conditions were in a badly-run factory. You're out there doing what so many other women would never even dare to do. And I love you _for_ it, not in spite of it."

Nancy pulled back a little, her eyes shining as she gazed up at him. "Do you really?"

"Very much so," he said, kissing her again. "I am so proud of you, Nancy. My fiancée. My future wife."

She tipped her head up and kissed him back, and Ned couldn't deny that he loved when she took initiative and kissed him, when she ran her fingers through his thick hair, pressing herself tight against him. Their kiss deepened, growing more passionate, until Ned found himself tugging her onto his lap, hungry to feel her against him.

"Stay with me tonight," he whispered, when their lips parted.

They had only spent the night together a few times, only since their engagement, and Ned wasn't expecting her to say yes. While they were able to lie to her father about where she was, thanks to Bess and Dave's conveniently located house, she had never felt fully comfortable with lying to Ned's soon-to-be father-in-law.

Nancy's blue eyes were hazed and she blinked slowly at him for a moment, then bit her lip, which was reddened from their kiss. "It is late," she said softly.

"It is," he agreed, cupping her face, stroking his thumb down her cheek.

She sighed, giving him a mock accusatory look as she nodded. "May I use your telephone?"

While she called home, telling Hannah that she was staying with Bess instead of making the trip back to River Heights at the late hour, Ned turned off the radio, put up his tools, and went back to the bedroom to make sure everything was in order. It had made sense for Nancy to keep a few things at the house, since it would soon belong to her as well; she had brought over a spare toothbrush and toiletries, a few outfits she could change into for work if she needed to do so.

And it wasn't as though they would be making love, Ned told himself. Not really. For all her experience and curiosity, in some ways she was still a little shy, which Ned found incredibly endearing. When she had spent the night in his bed, what would soon be their bed, there had been cautious fumblings in the dark, but nothing very serious.

Still, he craved it. He loved to have her close to him, to feel her cuddled up against him while they slept, to wake up together. He couldn't wait until they could spend every night that way.

They took their turns in the one functioning bathroom, and when Ned slipped under the covers, he wore an undershirt and underwear, to keep her from feeling uncomfortable. He had let her borrow one of his own t-shirts, and though she was careful to keep the lights off so he couldn't really see her in it, he loved that she was wearing it. She came to his bed with her long smooth legs bare, her hair loose, and dove under the covers, letting out a quiet giggle.

"This is okay?"

"Yes," she told him, moving to press against him, sighing contentedly as he embraced her. "Yes, very much so."

He stroked his hand up and down her back, noting with some pleasure that she wasn't wearing her bra underneath. "Feeling better?"

"Only if you're sure that you're okay. That you haven't changed your mind." Nancy reached up and swept a few strands of hair from her cheek.

"I definitely haven't. Now, Miss Drew, you've had a long day; you really should relax..."

He kissed her temple, her cheek, the corner of her mouth, feeling her bare, freshly washed face under his lips, and her lips were barely parted when he finally pressed his to hers. They kissed slowly, and Ned was very aware that she was nearly naked, pressed against him, but given how tentative she could be, he resisted the urge to just pin her under him and kiss her until she was breathless.

When they broke the kiss, she traced her hand ticklish-light down his side. "Are you disappointed?" she asked quietly.

"In what?"

"That I haven't wanted... to be more intimate," she said, shyly.

He cupped her cheek again. "I don't want to rush you," he said. "Am I very much looking forward to making love to you? Yes. But I've waited a long time for this, and I'm not going to ruin it by taking it too fast. Unless you're saying...?"

She sighed softly, then stretched up so she could kiss him again, running her fingers through his hair. The feel of her breasts, loose under the fabric of his shirt, as she pressed against him, was enough to make Ned almost lightheaded with desire. She stroked her tongue against his, and when he shifted on his side, toward her, she made a soft noise deep in her throat.

"Sorry," he murmured immediately, pulling back.

"No," she said, reaching for him, and she sighed. "I... when you said you wanted to... touch me..."

The last time they had been in bed together, Ned had suggested it, hoping she might find it a good compromise. She didn't want to have sex yet, and they wouldn't, not until she was ready. That didn't make him desire her any less, though. She had immediately moved away from him at the suggestion, and while he had apologized, he had still felt bad about possibly shocking her.

"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable—"

"I know," she said. "I was just... I was scared, but I think, if you'd like to..."

"I would _love_ to," he told her, unable to keep a grin from crossing his face. "But only if you're sure."

"I'm sure," she said, her voice a little tentative. Then she cleared her throat. "No, I am. Sure."

Ned chuckled. "Sweetheart, we don't have to."

"But I want to." She cupped his cheek, brushing her thumb against his lips softly before she kissed him again. Despite her assurance, she still shivered when he touched her hip, and he let her control their kiss, to keep from startling her.

It was the only situation he'd yet found that could leave her flustered and anything other than calmly assured. Seeing her vulnerable, cautious, just made him feel all the more cautious himself. He never wanted her to be upset by anything they did together.

He kissed her again, gently, after their lips parted. "May I take your shirt off?" he murmured, and in any other situation it would feel ridiculous, but he couldn't see her face.

She let out a soft sigh. "Yes," she whispered.

"And turn on the light?"

"Please don't," she replied, pushing herself up so he could more easily take off the shirt she wore. He took it slowly, and he could only judge by her breathing, the small sounds she was making, how she was feeling—and she sounded nervous.

"If you want me to stop, just say so, okay?"

"Okay," she agreed, moving back under the covers. He couldn't see her face, but he could just make out the outline of her, the curve of her shoulder as she turned onto her side to face him in the dark.

He gently ran the backs of his fingers down the curve of her cheek, and felt her exhale. "What will it be like?" she whispered.

"What will what be like?"

"Making love."

"Like nothing else," he said softly. "It will be like nothing else."

"If you... touch me, will it hurt less when we..."

It took Ned a moment to follow her line of reasoning, but Bess had recently been married, and she and Nancy were as close as sisters. They had probably talked about it.

"I don't know," he admitted. "But I hope so."

He caressed her shoulder, moving close to her, and they kissed gently as he drew his fingers down to her elbow, down her forearm. She was only wearing her panties and engagement ring, and that knowledge was insistent, heating his blood. He stilled his lips against hers, and they waited together, as he cupped her breast, gently, for the first time. Her nipple was already peaked, and she breathed out, her lips moving against his before she kissed him again.

Very, very slowly he explored her, paying attention to the little catches in her breath when he stroked her nipples, when he rubbed the ball of his thumb against them. When she first whimpered he pulled back immediately, afraid it was a sound of alarm.

"Do we need to—"

"No," she whispered. "Please. Please don't stop."

She moved onto her back, reaching for his hand and guiding it back to her, and he took a deep breath before he moved over her, his weight still on his side as he kissed her. She reached up and ran her fingers through his hair, and he felt her shift, the sole of her foot moving against the sheet as she brought her knee up.

Their kiss deepened, and she made another soft noise, shivering as he trailed his fingertips down her chest, drawing small circles over her belly. Every time his fingers slipped lower she quivered, and when he cupped her hip and gently pushed the side of her panties down a little, she broke the kiss, panting.

"Please, no," she gasped.

Ned made a soft sound, panting too. "Can I touch you underneath?"

She paused for a beat. "Y-yes," she replied.

He let his palm rest against her lower belly for a moment, until she had relaxed a little, and then he leaned down, kissing the tip of her nose, the corner of her mouth. "I love the way your skin feels," he whispered, his lips brushing hers. "So warm and soft. Do you like this?"

"Yes," she whispered. "Can you take your shirt off?"

She had barely finished asking him the question before he pulled back and yanked his shirt over his head, and when he returned to her she touched his shoulder, then drew her hand down his bare side. Ned kissed her again, nipping gently at her, and when he slipped one knee onto the mattress between her parted legs, then shifted his weight so he was pinning her just barely under him, she made a soft noise.

He touched her breast again, and she breathed out in a quiet moan. "It's okay," he whispered. "It'll just be my fingers, sweetheart."

"Okay," she whispered.

They kissed, but her lips stilled against his when he just began to move his fingertips under the band at the top of her panties. She still had her knee bent, and when he pushed lower, finding the curls between her thighs, she moved her other leg.

He took his time, making his explorations slow, stroking a fingertip up the seam of her sex until she opened her legs a little wider for him. When he kissed her, he could feel her cheeks flush warm against his, and she let her fingers drift down, digging her nails against his shoulder blade as he barely moved his fingertip to stroke just between the press of her outer lips.

"Ned," she breathed, her voice a half-sigh.

"Nancy," he whispered, his voice hushed, and he kissed her again as he drew his fingertip up, starting low between her legs, down at the opening of her sex, then dragging it up the seam. When he reached the top she bucked under him slightly, and Ned nipped at her again, deepening their kiss.

He did it again, this time slipping his finger a little deeper between her outer lips, and when he reached the top, his fingertip had stroked against the slick folds of her inner flesh, all the way up—

She whimpered, bucking harder when his finger brushed some delicate bit of her. A tingle went down his spine as he worked his finger between her legs, trying to find that place again, wondering if he would know. He found a firm, slick nub and deliberately rubbed his fingertip over it.

Nancy arched, her breath escaping her in a quiet cry. "Ned," she whimpered, her hips quivering.

"Bad?" he murmured, afraid he had hurt her or upset her.

"No, no, _ohhhh_ ," she moaned, her nails digging into his back again. "Oh God, oh _God!_ "

"You like this?"

She answered with a wordless moan, and Ned slipped his thumb between her outer lips, stroking the nub with it as he traced his fingertips down again, exploring the slick folds of her inner flesh. She rocked up again, just barely grinding against his hand, and Ned groaned in frustration, his fingertips finding the slippery opening of her sex as their mouths found each other again.

He kissed her deeply, his tongue stroking against hers as he barely circled her opening, his thumb stroking just a little harder. She cried out, and the hard tips of her breasts brushed against his chest as he pinned her under him, straddling one of her thighs as he kept touching her.

When they broke the kiss she moaned again, tipping her chin back, panting harshly. He began to work one fingertip just barely up into her sex and she gasped, her lips brushing his shoulder as she dragged her nails down his back. Her bent leg fell open to the side, and Ned kissed her again, her hips rocking up under his hand.

He had thought he would be able to control himself. But he felt incredibly desperate. Being able to feel the hot slick press of her sex against his fingers just made him want to get inside her, and the fact that she was responding to him, clearly aroused by what he was doing to her—that delighted him, and hearing, feeling her this way was so irresistibly sexy. She had been so shy at the thought of anything sexual that he had worried she would endure his touch instead of enjoying it.

She whimpered when he broke the kiss. "Good?" he whispered.

"Yes," she cried out, her voice rising into a sob. "Oh God, oh _God_ , it... _ohhh..._ "

"Hurt?"

"No," she swore, shaking her head, and when he pushed his finger deeper inside her, circling that slick nub of flesh with his thumb, her hips jerked.

"Hell," Ned growled, and she shuddered when he nipped at her neck, briefly sucking against the smooth flesh. "Oh my _God_ , baby. Oh _God_. God, I want to get inside you..."

She let out a soft distressed cry. "Please, don't," she whimpered, her voice small.

Ned muttered a stronger epithet, slipping a second finger between her legs, and when he stopped rubbing her thumb against her, she rocked her hips back and forth, making a soft pleading sound. She reached down and pressed her hand against his through her panties, seeking him again, and she shuddered when he rubbed his thumb over her again. He moved so both his knees were between her legs, and he could feel her heartbeat as they kissed again, desperately.

He pressed his fingers deeper, beginning to thrust them, and she broke the kiss, her hips bucking again. Ned moved so he could support his weight on his side, still pinning her under him, listening to her sob. She was so, so incredibly wet against his fingers, and when he worked his way up to rapidly, roughly thrusting his fingers in and out of her, experimentally stroking his thumb quickly, then slowly against her, she jerked against him.

Holy God, if he could get inside her right now, he would never last. The thought of ripping her panties off and burying himself between her thighs just made his cock throb hard in answer.

Then she cried out louder, her hips rocking urgently under his fingers. "Ohhhh, oh _God_ ," she sobbed. "Oh my God, Ned, oh _God_ —"

"How does it feel, sweetheart?"

Her cries went so high as she writhed under him. "Soooo good," she panted out, through her broken sobs. She sounded like she was in pain, but when he kissed her again she returned it hard, and he knew, he _knew_ he shouldn't, but he pressed his erect cock against her thigh, groaning at the contact, even though it was through his underwear.

God. He could smell her arousal, and when he imagined her, slick and tight around him, meeting his thrusts—

His hips jerked, her thigh tensed as she moved, and her nails dug hard into his back as she broke the kiss. She gasped in a desperate breath as Ned pressed his hips against her inner thigh again, and _God_ , his fingers were almost numb, but he kept stroking her, wondering how long it would take, if she had already reached her climax—

And then she tipped her head back, letting out a breathless scream, and he felt her inner flesh weakly clench around his fingers.

"Oh _God_ ," Ned groaned, pressing his fingers deep inside her so he could feel her sex pulse around them as he rubbed himself against her thigh. She was trembling, and when Ned arched over her, nuzzling against her breast, she let out another scream, bucking even harder.

When her scream finally faded to a low moan, when she stopped digging her nails into his back and let her hand fall back to the mattress, finally trying to catch her breath, Ned scrambled off the bed, his underwear already shoved down before he had even reached the bathroom door. Once he was inside he stroked his cock with the slick trace of her arousal, panting desperately as he touched himself, and with a loud groan he came, his hips jerking. For a long moment he just stood there, trying to catch his breath, before he cleaned up and washed his hands, splashed cold water on his face, and headed back to the bedroom.

From the faint hallway light, before he flipped it off and rejoined her, he could see that she had slipped his shirt back on, and was bundled under the covers.

He hadn't meant to start rubbing himself against her leg, and he felt guilty when he moved back into the bed, under the covers with her. She had already been so hesitant, and he had let himself lose control...

But God, she had been so incredibly sexy. Maybe next time she would let him turn the lamp on, to see her face, to see what he was doing to her.

If there even _was_ a next time.

Ned took a long, slow breath. "I'm sorry," he murmured.

Nancy made a soft noise. "Mmm?"

"Are you all right?"

"Mmm." She rolled onto her side, facing him. "Yeah. I feel really, really good. And a little..."

"A little what?" he prompted, rolling onto his own side. She was in shadow again, her expression hidden by the darkness in the bedroom.

"Embarrassed," she said quietly. "I didn't do that right, did I."

Ned found her face with his fingertips and stroked her cheek. "Baby, _I_ screwed it up," he told her. "When I... I shouldn't have been rubbing against you like that."

"Oh." She moved a little closer to him, and he wrapped his arm around her. "I didn't mind."

"Really?"

"Yes. I just... I don't want us to take that step yet, but if we... practice." She nestled against him, her lips just brushing against him. "What we just did, is that what making love will feel like?"

"Something like that," he said, and kissed her forehead. "But my fingers aren't as long or as thick as..."

He let himself trail off, afraid of scandalizing her, although he was pretty sure it would take more to do so. "Oh," she murmured again. "It... it felt so good, Ned."

"I'm glad you liked it, sweetheart."

She made a soft sound and rubbed her face against his shirt. "Good girls don't let boys do that to them, do they."

Ned paused for a moment. "You're my fiancée," he pointed out. "Soon you'll be my wife, and while I know we haven't yet said the words to each other, you are all I want for the rest of my life, Nancy. The only reason I would be upset about what we just did with each other—and I love that you let me do that with you, that you let me touch you that way—is if it upset _you_."

"But I... I didn't... I didn't know what I was doing... I feel like I disappointed you."

"Oh, Nan." Ned moved down so he could brush the tip of his nose against hers. "Sweetheart, if you're anything like the way you just were on our wedding night? I will be a very, very happy man."

"Truly?"

"Oh, yes, love," he whispered, and brushed his lips against hers. "Oh yes. You felt so good, and I can't even imagine how amazing that will feel when I'm inside you..."

She shivered, and when she kissed him, he ended up half-pinning her under him again. This time, though, she didn't cry out in alarm or protest, and when he pulled back, she ran her fingers through his hair.

"I want that," she whispered, her voice shy. "With you, the night we're married. I... I thought I had upset you, that that was why you ran out of the room..."

"Oh, no, sweetheart. No. I... wanted you too much and I needed to relieve the tension."

"Alone?"

"Yes," he said, stroking his fingers down her hair. "I didn't want to offend you."

"How do you..." She made a soft inquisitive noise.

"I touch myself. Much the way I was just touching you, although for me it doesn't take nearly as long."

"I'm sorry," she whispered again.

"Don't be sorry," he told her, and kissed her again. "I want everything to feel good and natural for you, and if anything _doesn't_ feel good for you, I want you to tell me. And I'm so—I didn't mean to leave like that, I just... you were so incredibly sexy, Nan. I love that it made you feel good."

He could hear the smile in her voice when she spoke again. "I have never felt anything like that before," she murmured. "It was... it was like that thrill that goes up my spine when the last piece of a mystery falls into place... but heightened a hundred times."

"Mmm," Ned murmured, and kissed her again, and this time she parted her lips under his, urging him to stroke his tongue against hers, as she ran her fingers through his hair. "Well, I already know how addicted my girl is to mysteries... does that mean you might want to let me touch you again soon?"

"Yes," she told him, her voice a quiet moan. "Maybe again tonight... and if it might feel good for you, I'd like to see if... if maybe I can learn to touch you too."

Ned growled as he rolled fully on top of her, shuddering when she opened her legs to let him rest between her thighs. "Keep it up and I'll beg you to call in sick to work tomorrow," he murmured, his fingertips hooking under the hem of her shirt to brush against her belly.

"Tomorrow's Saturday."

"Thank God," he groaned, kissing her again.


	3. Chapter 3

Nancy stretched, opening her eyes, and frowned in disappointment when she saw the other side of the bed empty. Ned had promised her he would put off his business trip if she wanted him to do so, but Nancy had known how much it meant to him. In the three years he had been with the firm, he had continually progressed up the management ladder. Putting off the business trip, no matter how much she missed him while he was gone, would reflect badly on him.

Nancy glanced down at her engagement and wedding rings, then stretched again, taking a deep breath before she slipped out of bed. It had taken every bit of her energy to get through the previous two days, and she hoped that her stomach bug had passed. That had been the main reason Ned had been willing to postpone the trip; he hated leaving while she wasn't feeling well, even though Nancy knew Hannah would be delighted to bring her soup and crackers if she asked.

Nancy and Ned's two-year wedding anniversary was only a few days away.

The first six months of their marriage had been both bliss and hell. Ned had first made love to her on their wedding night, and on their honeymoon, during the months after, their appetite for each other had become almost insatiable. Their first few times it had hurt, and she had felt self-conscious and nervous, but he had made love to her in other ways, and the incredible satisfaction it had given her had made her feel almost addicted to the indescribable pleasure. The first time he had entered her without causing her pain, when he had brought her to her release while he was inside her, they had both been overwhelmed by how amazing it felt.

But neither of them had really lived with anyone outside their family before, either. Their few sleepovers before the wedding had been unique, and they hadn't even so much as spent an entire weekend alone together before their wedding.

Ned was an incredibly patient man, but he had a temper, and while Nancy adored Ned and wanted to spend time with him, she often became so absorbed in her work that she lost track of time, trusting that he would understand. She was faithful to him, and had sworn she would be for the rest of her life; even so, Ned was often at work and unable to help her with her investigations, and he wasn't simply leaving her at home doing housekeeping. They had been learning each other, how to live with each other, how to express their disappointment and frustration without it escalating into a full-scale argument, and Ned had a tendency to bottle up his anger until he exploded with it. Nancy had just been so reluctant to express any dissatisfaction at all, knowing Ned was already being so incredibly understanding, and that just made their fights worse. It also fell to Nancy to hire a housekeeper, and after two disastrous candidates, after a series of investigations that had put Nancy in more dangerous situations than she had been in before, on top of Ned working more hours on a project at work—in the space of a week they had argued so much, had been so incredibly frustrated with each other, that Ned had spent two nights sleeping on their couch while Nancy, her heart aching, had cried herself to sleep alone in their bed.

A part of her had been terrified that all her misgivings and doubts were just coming true, that she wasn't cut out to be a wife, not even the way they had agreed. They were still getting to know each other, and though they had been seeing each other for years, they had never seen each other like this. She had bristled at Ned's pleas with her to be more careful, to call him or some other man she trusted to escort her if she was in a dangerous situation. She had been incredibly frustrated when the third housekeeper, who lasted an even shorter time than the first two, had mistaken her story notes for meaningless scraps of paper and thrown them away, ruining them by tossing leftover coffee grounds in after.

And every time she wasn't home for dinner, she felt guilty, and sad, and defensive, all at once. Ned had known who he was marrying, but she couldn't fight the feeling that she was failing him as a wife.

The turning point had finally come in the fourth month of their marriage, just before Thanksgiving, when tensions had been especially high. Edith and James had invited them over for the holiday meal, and Nancy had been offended that Edith would just assume Nancy didn't want to host the meal at their new home. When Ned had tried to defend his mother's invitation, Nancy had blown up. She was an awful wife, he had to think that; she had missed so many meals with him, it hardly seemed like they were married at all, and she hated the tension between them so much...

She had ended up crying in his arms, and he had cupped her face, telling her that he did miss spending time with her, but the only way she would have really hurt him was if he thought she was using her work as an excuse to be away from him. She swore that she wasn't, but she still felt terrible.

They came to an agreement that night. Dinner together at least twice a week—at _least_. A date night at least once every two weeks. A new housekeeper who could prepare their dinner for them, who also understood that Nancy's story notes were not to be touched under any circumstances. And they would offer to host a Christmas luncheon at their home.

For the most part, their arrangement worked. They still fought occasionally, still exasperated and frustrated each other sometimes, but they dealt with it before it turned into a screaming match. Nancy's married friends had told her not to go to bed angry, and she had to admit that no matter how awful their fight might have been, she _hated_ sleeping alone in their bed, so they always made up before they went to sleep together.

And she _loved_ making love after a fight, when they were both relieved, keyed up, almost desperate for each other. She loved making love with him, period. She had been so nervous about that aspect of married life before their wedding, and Bess was the only person Nancy had been able to really talk to about it, before or after the wedding, other than Ned. Nancy hadn't told Bess everything—some of what her husband had done to  and with her in bed was just too mortifying to discuss with anyone else, no matter how much pleasure it had given them both—but when she and Bess sympathized about how exasperating _and_ how incredibly amazing their husbands could be, it made her feel better.

Nancy did love Ned. She loved him with all her heart, and with every day that passed, every night they spent in each other's arms, she loved him more. She still did everything she could that she considered "proper" for a wife to do; she made dinner for him when she could, usually on the weekends when she wasn't covering a story. She had hosted the Christmas luncheon the first year of their marriage, and Thanksgiving luncheon the second year, and even a dinner party for some of his work colleagues early that summer. He enjoyed seeing her dressed up for him, and so she had accumulated a small wardrobe of short frilly nightgowns and beautiful satin slips. And she had been diligent in their bed; while pleasing their husbands in bed sounded like a chore to many of Nancy's married friends, considering how much pleasure Ned was able to give her, returning it made Nancy happy. He had been so incredibly patient with her in that area during their engagement, and he was delighted when she wanted to try something new or different with him, when she wanted to take some initiative in their bed.

The first time he had ever suggested that she could straddle him, controlling the speed and force of their lovemaking, she had been nervous and incredibly self-conscious, especially when he had caressed her breasts, her hips, that small nub between her thighs that could give her so, so much pleasure when he touched it. She had lost control and he had loved it, loved watching her, loved every moment of it. They had made love in late-afternoon sunlight, sometimes even with the lamp on, and now, when they were alone together, she felt gloriously decadent and wanton being nude around him sometimes in the privacy of their room—and she always giggled with delight when her husband embraced her that way, nuzzling against her, his skin so warm against hers.

Her husband. Ned, whose love meant so much to her, who did his best to give her everything she had ever wanted.

They were in a good place now, two years into their marriage. Ned's success at work made them financially comfortable, and Nancy was working as a city crime reporter when she wasn't working on investigative stories or tips for the newspaper. She had found Maria during one such case; one of Maria's former employers had blamed the young Hispanic woman when a few pieces of jewelry had gone missing, ignoring her son's obvious addiction problems. Nancy had cleared Maria's name, and Maria had come to work for her and a few other women in Nancy's neighborhood. Maria spent the morning at the Liggons' house, then came over to the Nickersons' to tidy up and prepare dinner on weekdays. Every Thursday, once she left the Nickersons', she went over to clean at the Drummonds' home. She was very efficient and her meals were lovely; she had introduced Nancy and Ned to a few of the traditional dishes she had learned from her mother, and Nancy and Ned were both delighted by the new experience. When a few made men trying to intimidate Nancy had come by the house, Maria had stood her ground, then called Nancy at work to let her know about it.

The household ran far more smoothly with Maria keeping everything in order while Nancy and Ned were at work, and while Nancy had always loved Hannah, she found she had never truly appreciated all their housekeeper had done for her and her father until she had been at the mercy of incompetent applicants.

Nancy was just pouring herself a cup of coffee that morning when she frowned, glancing down at her stomach. She was feeling nauseated again, and if the nausea continued the way it had the rest of the week, she wouldn't be in the mood for anything more than some thin broth and soda crackers for dinner. She left a note to that effect for Maria, but encouraged her to make something special for Ned's homecoming. Maria did an excellent job with steak seared in a seasoned cast-iron skillet, and the baked potatoes she prepared were always fluffy and delicious.

Nancy was disappointed when she couldn't even keep the cup of coffee down. She rose from her knees, meeting her own gaze in the bathroom mirror, before she splashed cold water on her pale face. Oh, she felt miserable, but she would feel better once her husband was home again. Ned was so incredibly sweet to her when she was sick.

Nancy hadn't slept well alone in their bed, and that, coupled with her nausea and a pounding headache, meant concentrating on her work was doubly hard. She was determined to get home on time that night, though, and so she gritted her teeth and worked through it. When the nausea became too much—a few of the reporters ordered hot dogs from the greasy spoon down the block for lunch, and the smell of the chili and onions and wieners had made Nancy's stomach roil unpleasantly—Nancy took a break, going out for fresh air, until she felt better.

She left work only five minutes later than usual, and when she opened their front door, the smell of pan-seared steak greeted her. It made her mouth water even as her stomach flipped again, and she frowned down at her belly, closing the door behind her.

"I'm home!"

"Nan?" Ned emerged from their bedroom with a welcoming grin on his face, and Nancy put down her briefcase and her light jacket, throwing her arms around him. "Oh, sweetheart, I missed you so much."

"I missed you too," she murmured, nuzzling against him as he embraced her. "Mmmm."

"And boy, that steak smells amazing. Thanks for the surprise." He pulled back and was almost close enough to kiss her when he looked at her curiously. She had grimaced, feeling her stomach flip again at the mention of food. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing."

"You still aren't feeling well?"

She paused, but Ned knew her well enough that she didn't even need to answer. He kissed her cheek, then guided her to their bedroom. "Would you like to lie down before dinner?"

"I would, but I've missed you too much to let you out of my sight..."

"It's all right; I need to call my office anyway. Just lie down and rest for a few minutes. I'll wake you up."

At his insistence, Nancy's limbs seemed to almost become heavier in response. She fumbled out of her clothes and washed her face, and crept into their bed in her underwear, sinking into blessed unconsciousness as soon as her head touched the pillow.

When she opened her eyes, their bedroom was much darker and her stomach was growling. She made a soft disappointed sound, stretching her legs.

"Feeling any better, sweetheart?"

Nancy turned. Her husband was looking at her with concern from his own pillow, stretched out over the covers. Another wave of nausea swept over her when she rolled onto her other side to face him, but after a moment it passed. "Yes," she murmured, and it wasn't really a lie. "Dinner?"

"I thought I'd wait for you."

"Then you must be starving," Nancy said, slowly moving the covers back.

Maria had left their dinners warming in the oven, although Ned had pulled his steak out so it wouldn't dry out. Over her broth and his steak and potato, they discussed her day, Ned's trip, their plans for the anniversary. Ned wanted to take her out to eat at a nice restaurant, and it had been too long since they had splurged on that kind of expense. Silently Nancy hoped that her stomach bug would be well and truly gone by then—and that no assignment would interfere with their plans. Ned _was_ understanding, but that didn't mean he enjoyed broken dates and ruined plans.

Mindful that her nausea was worst in the morning, Nancy only ate a few crackers with her broth, hoping that would keep her sickness under control. After dinner they curled up together on the couch while she went over story notes, and she felt warm and relaxed and happy in her husband's arms.

When she thought back on the way their marriage had been, she could see how close they had both been to giving up, and she was so, so glad that they had finally been able to find this peace with each other. Losing him would have meant losing a better part of herself, and she couldn't have borne it.

When Nancy went to the bathroom to prepare for bed, she brought a short powder-blue slip with her to change into. Ned was waiting for her in their bed, looking over the newspaper, and when she walked in wearing the slip, Ned's eyebrows went up, and he immediately folded up the paper.

"I thought, since you weren't feeling well...?"

Nancy closed their bedroom door behind her and crossed to their bed, climbing in on her side. "I feel better," she said. "And I've missed you."

"And I've missed you," he said, and the expression in his dark eyes sent a shiver down her spine. She moved close to him, holding his gaze, and Ned rolled onto his side, slipping his hand under the covers, letting it drift down to gently stroke over her belly before he brought it back up, idly toying with her breast. He leaned down to kiss her and she threaded her fingers through his hair, blinking up at him before their mouths met.

"I don't want you to get sick," she murmured.

"Well, if you don't want me to kiss you _here_ ," he replied, brushing his thumb over her lips, letting his voice trail off as he kissed her cheek, her chin. He leaned down and brushed his lips against her earlobe. "Maybe you want me to kiss you somewhere else, love."

She shivered, nuzzling against him. "If you insist," she murmured, a smile in her voice.

Nancy had been shocked the first time Ned had kissed his way down to the join of her thighs, using his fingers and tongue to tease her sex; her cheeks had burned, and she hadn't been able to relax and enjoy what he was doing. She had begged him to stop, and he had obeyed her. A week later, he had kissed his way down again, slower this time, and before she even had the first thought of objecting again, he had licked the sensitive nub between her legs, which he had told her was her clitoris.

And she had still felt embarrassed and self-conscious, but the pure pleasure of what he was doing to her had overwhelmed her misgivings. It had taken her a while to become comfortable enough with her own body, and with her husband's, to completely let herself go while they were making love. Some nights their lovemaking was slow and gentle; some nights it was quick and rough. Some nights they just explored each other, finding out what they liked and disliked, finding out what drove them crazy. Some nights they twined around each other and made love for so, so long, kissing and stroking each other lazily while they recovered, then joined again, speechless, drunk with pleasure.

That night, though, Ned didn't make it all the way down to the join of her thighs. He lavished his attention on her breasts, caressing and stroking them until together he and Nancy pulled her slip off, then nuzzling and suckling until she was panting, arching underneath him, rocking her hips against the cup of his palm as he rubbed her through her underwear. Her breasts felt more sensitive than usual, and by the time he pulled back to look at her, she was flushed and grasping his biceps, her legs moving restlessly against the sheet.

"Oh, I missed you, love."

She opened her thighs to him once he pulled her panties off, stripping his own shorts off, and they both groaned when he slipped his fingers between her thighs and found her slick, ready for him. He rubbed her clitoris rhythmically for a moment, until she was gasping and sobbing in pleasure, lightheaded and incoherent. Then he fitted the tip of his manhood just inside her sex, and she squeezed his arm, taking a deep breath.

Locking her gaze to his as he entered her sent a thrill down both their spines, and she was caught, fighting her shyness about what they were doing, her natural instinct to close her eyes and hide any sign of how much pleasure he was giving her. It delighted him to see her express her own delight, her desperation as she approached her climax.

And this secret, this amazing wonder they shared, was theirs alone. She had never found such joy with anyone else, and she couldn't imagine being this close to anyone else, no one other than her husband.

"Ned... oh, oh _God, Ned_ ," she whimpered, letting him guide her legs up to wrap them about his waist, and she wrapped her arms around him too, her nails just digging into his shoulder blade, her other hand buried in his thick, dark hair. She cried out softly when he pressed his full length between her thighs, and he paused that way for a moment, his dark-eyed gaze locked to her face.

"My love," he whispered, supporting his weight on his elbow above her as he stroked her sensitive flesh with his other hand. He was so deep inside her, and she trembled with his every thrust. "I love you so much, Nancy."

"I love you too," she whispered, gasping at the deepest point of his next thrust. "Oh, _Ned..._ "

He worked in her until the tension was so high she could hardly bear it, tight in her core, until she bucked and writhed under him, gasping desperately for breath. Her whimpers became loud sobs, then high breathless screams, and she jerked under him as she finally found her release. The pleasure was so intense that for a moment she felt nothing more than just the pure sensation of their joining, all conscious thought, everything else totally wiped out, and she could only tremble and respond to him as he drove rapidly into her, over and over again.

He collapsed to her, panting hard, and slowly, slowly Nancy came back to herself again, relaxed and spent. She was boneless against the mattress, still wrapped around her husband, his body pressed tight to hers. She loved that they stayed joined even after they had reached their climax, and she closed her eyes, savoring the feel of him so close to her, his warm flesh against hers. Oh, she had missed this so much.

She ran her fingers through his hair a few times, lazily stroking, before he pushed back a little. "Hey," he said softly, and rubbed the tip of his nose against hers. "Hey, beautiful."

"Hey," she whispered, cupping his cheek. "Welcome home, love."

"With that to look forward to..." He winked at her before kissing her cheek, then pushing himself off her so he could clean them up.

In the morning, Nancy woke happily in her husband's arms—but was disappointed when she was overtaken by a bout of nausea almost immediately. Ned was awake when she returned to their bed after a round of violent retching, and he made her promise that she would call the doctor and set up an appointment. "After all," he said, "if he can give you some medicine to get you better faster..."

She was trying to hide from him exactly how miserable she felt, since he would insist that she stay home otherwise, but she was exhausted, and she was pretty sure he could see it in her eyes. She did promise, and once she was at her desk at work, sorting through her notes, she did call the doctor's office.

"Hello. I know this might be impossible, but I haven't been feeling well, and I wondered if the doctor might have some time today..."

"Oh... his day is already full of appointments. May I ask who's calling?"

"Mrs. Ned Nickerson." Nancy looked down at her wedding ring. "Nancy Drew."

"Oh! Well, Mrs. Nickerson, would it be possible for you to come in around... two-thirty?"

Nancy hated that her name had probably enabled her to bump someone else off the list, but nothing could be done about it now. "Yes," she agreed, forcing a smile. Now even the persistent odor of stale coffee, which had permeated everything in the newspaper office, was making her stomach flip a little. She wasn't sure what she would do if coffee upset her. "I will be there."

Dr. Collins was a balding, middle-aged man with a kindly smile. Nancy sat on the examination table in her blue and green patterned dress, her hands clasped in her lap, and they exchanged polite smiles when he entered.

"So, Mrs. Nickerson. Nurse tells me you're suffering from a stomachache?"

Nancy took a deep breath and nodded. "I have fits of nausea during the day, and I've been quite tired, have a headache... I was hoping you could give me something to treat this stomach bug so I could get back to work."

Dr. Collins smiled as he fitted the stethoscope into his ears and approached her. "And how long have you been married? Deep breath, please."

"Two years," she said, when he motioned for her to answer.

"Have you been trying to get pregnant for that length of time?"

Nancy colored faintly. "Um... no. We haven't been, actually."

"When did you finish your last cycle?" he asked, without a hint of self-consciousness about asking her such a question.

And Nancy wasn't entirely surprised by the line of questioning. Bess Evans had hosted a dinner party the previous weekend, and Nancy and Ned, along with George and Burt, had been in attendance. When Nancy had mentioned her nausea and general exhaustion, Bess had clapped with glee. "Oh, I'm so happy for you," she had said, with a wicked gleam in her eye.

Nancy had glared at her. "Bite your tongue," she told her best friend. "I'm not ready for... that."

"Doesn't matter, if it's ready for _you_ ," Bess had pointed out with a grin. Bess and Dave's daughter Michelle had just learned how to crawl, according to her doting parents; during the dinner party the baby was in River Heights with Bess's parents, so the guests weren't treated to that spectacle in person.

Even so, when the doctor re-entered the room with a wide grin on his face, Nancy felt her heart sink. "Congratulations, Mrs. Nickerson," he told her.

The prospect of returning to work after the doctor's news was ludicrous. Nancy called her editor to excuse herself; she had made sure her story was filed before the appointment, so she didn't need to rush back to the office. When she walked through the front door of their home, Maria stood. A newspaper was spread out on the kitchen table in front of her, and a pan was simmering on the stove.

" _Hola, Señora_ Nancy _,_ " Maria said, sounding slightly perplexed. She hadn't been expecting to see Nancy that afternoon; of course she hadn't.

" _Hola, Señora Flores,"_ Nancy replied, putting down her jacket and briefcase. She gave Maria a tired smile. _"¿Cómo estás?"_

Nancy asked about Maria's uncle, who had recently begun working at a Chicago restaurant after his arrival in the States, and looked at the dinner Maria had already begun to prepare, smiling as she told Maria that she couldn't wait to taste it. Inside Nancy felt numb, and while talking to Maria was helping distract her, she made herself a mug of tea and took it to the bedroom. She let her smile drop once the door was closed, toeing out of her heels, crossing to the bed.

She didn't know how to feel. She knew how she was supposed to feel, but all she _did_ feel was dread.

She dimly remembered Maria telling her goodbye, but when Nancy next opened her eyes, her husband was just walking into the room. "Still feeling unwell, sweetheart?"

Nancy reached up and covered her eyes briefly. "Mmm. What time is it?"

"Time for dinner." He came over to her and when she opened her eyes again, he cupped her cheek. "Were you able to go see the doctor?"

She took a deep breath and nodded, then forced a smile. "He says with any luck I'll be feeling better soon."

Maria had prepared roasted chicken, rice, and green bean casserole for their dinner. Together Nancy and Ned set the table and sat down, and Ned reached over, taking her hand. "I'm sorry you don't feel well, sweetheart, but I am happy to be able to eat with you."

Nancy stroked her thumb over his, glancing down at her plate. "Well, I have a feeling we'll be eating together a lot more often."

"Oh?"

Despite the turmoil she was feeling, when Nancy looked into her husband's eyes, anticipating the way he would react to what she was about to say, she felt a small thrill go down her spine. "The doctor said that I'm pregnant," she said, searching Ned's eyes.

Ned's eyes widened, and the smile on his face widened to a huge grin. "He did?"

Nancy nodded, and Ned came out of his chair, lifting her out of hers, gently. He embraced her, and she could hear him laughing. "Oh, sweetheart... but you've been sick?"

"Morning sickness," she told him.

"Is that... is it bad? A bad sign?"

Nancy shook her head. "No, no. A lot of women have it. It's not a bad sign at all."

"Oh..." Ned put her back down, cupping her cheek as he looked into her eyes. "Oh, Nancy, I can't believe it."

She smiled at him. "So you're pleased?"

"You know I am." He kissed her gently. "Oh, sweetheart. I'm so happy. I hate that you've been sick... but the doctor did say you'll feel better soon?"

She nodded again. "Yes. I... I'm so glad you're pleased."

Ned searched her eyes, and his grin faded just a little. "I know we weren't planning for this," he said softly. "It had to be a shock."

Nancy blinked a few times, cupping her hand over his. "It is," she admitted. "I can't... I had so much I wanted to do," she said softly. "Before... this."

"And you will," he told her. "Nan, we'll figure this out, okay? It's going to be all right." He leaned down and kissed her cheek. "Oh, love, I can't believe it..."

She embraced him hard, swallowing the tears that had been threatening since Dr. Collins had given her the news that afternoon. Ned was pleased. Everyone they knew would be pleased.

And Edith's words came back to her again. Maybe she had been able to work after their wedding, but once their first baby came along...

Ned couldn't stop smiling through dinner, and afterward he asked if she would mind his giving his parents the news. They sat down on the couch together and Ned laced his fingers through hers as his father answered the phone. When Ned told his mother, Nancy heard her delighted cry even though she was on Ned's other side.

Then, after Edith asked to speak to her daughter-in-law and asked a series of flurried questions that left Nancy's head spinning, Nancy called her father's house and gave him and Hannah the news. Both Hannah and Edith promised that they would be available to help out with the new baby, that they would take her shopping and get her plenty of supplies in preparation.

Nancy had been in dozens of stressful situations and kept perfect control of herself, but when she hung up the phone an hour later, she was overwhelmed. She had called Bess, George, her Aunt Eloise, Helen, and her great-grandmother, just to get it out of the way, and Ned mentioned calling his own grandparents, but when he saw the look on Nancy's face, instead he pulled her into his arms. She cuddled against him, pressing her face against his neck, just making herself breathe. Finally, she had found a scent that didn't make her stomach turn. His skin and aftershave were a familiar combination, and the warmth of his arms around her made her feel almost safe.

"I love you," he whispered, stroking his fingers down her back. "Oh, sweetheart. I'm sorry you're upset, but everything will be okay. It will."

She kept her eyes closed as she smiled, very briefly. "You're always so optimistic," she murmured.

"Hey. We made it to our six-month anniversary," he reminded her. "We've spent two years figuring this out, and we'll figure this out, too."

When the first tear spilled down Nancy's cheek, she felt awful, selfish, and terrified. Ned was so happy, but with every comment she had heard during the evening's telephone conversations, she had realized again how out of her depth she was. Edith had told her to get all the sleep she could now; she wouldn't be getting any once the baby was born. Bess had promised to show her the ropes, and even to let Nancy and Ned practice by keeping Michelle for a few hours over some weekend—to start, anyway. Both of them had said, faintly self-satisfied tones in their voices, that Nancy simply had no idea what she was getting into.

Her body had always been her own, and now a child was growing inside her, a piece of both of them. Ned was ecstatic. He would want her to be ecstatic too.

But she just wasn't _ready_. Not yet.

She had no idea how to be a mother.

Ned brought his hand up and cupped her cheek, and when he felt her tears, cool against his skin, he moved back to look down at her face. She tried to smile at him, but another pair of tears slipped down her cheeks.

"Tell me how to make you feel better," he whispered.

She shook her head, slipping her arms up around his neck and holding him. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "I'm just... it's just a shock. I'm sure tomorrow I'll feel better."

Their anniversary dinner that weekend was lovely, and Ned, sensing how uneasy she still was with the topic of her pregnancy, didn't bring it up during their conversation at the restaurant. Instead he joked with her, laughed with her, as they reminisced about their first meeting, their honeymoon, cases Ned had helped her solve. Then, that Sunday, when they had lunch with Ned's parents, Edith said she would send Ned's old crib home with them.

Slowly the large, bright room at the back of the house officially became their nursery. Ned and Nancy put up wallpaper decorated with nursery rhyme characters, and Edith sent over a dresser to hold the baby's clothes. Bess was happy to lend Nancy baby clothes until she had need of them again, and was full of tips about nursing and bottle-feeding, diapers, and what to do about colic.

Nancy became better about hiding it, but she was still afraid when she thought about it. A baby. Babysitting Michelle just made her more sure that she had no idea how to take care of a child; after only two hours with the little girl, Nancy felt exhausted, her nerves on end.

But then, one night after dinner while she and Ned relaxed in front of the television set, Nancy with her feet up and Ned promising to bring her anything she needed to be more comfortable—she felt it.

She felt the baby quicken inside her, in a flutter of tiny limbs.

She had known her pregnancy was real, but some element of it hadn't really sunk in, not until she felt that.

Ned looked over at her when she gasped, his arm around her shoulders. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

Without thinking about it, she took Ned's other hand and guided it to the gentle curve of her belly. "The baby," she said softly, and glanced up at him. "It... it moved. I could feel it."

Ned's eyes lit up, and while he was disappointed that he was unable to feel it too, he was still smiling when he looked back at her face. "Sweetheart, you look the happiest I've seen you since you told me."

She blushed a little. She had told him how nervous she was, but he had never seen her as fully out of her element as she felt she would be with a child. "It didn't quite seem real," she explained softly. "I know that sounds silly..."

"It doesn't," he told her. "And I want you to be happy, love. I know you're afraid, and I am too, but there are no words for how—how delighted I am. I can't wait to share this with you."

She tipped forward, pressing her lips to his. "I'd never be able to do this without you," she told him softly. "And I wouldn't want to. Ned, I know you're going to be such an amazing father."

"And you are going to be a perfect mother, love."

That was the moment when Nancy finally began to anticipate having their baby, instead of dreading it. She was still nervous about what would happen after the baby was born, nervous at the thought that somehow she would _never_ end up going back to work, that her nightmare vision of marriage would come true, but that hard fist of paralyzing fear had begun to relax. Ned had promised her he would do everything he could to make her happy, and since they had made it through that first rough six months together, they were communicating, happy together. Maybe the thought of raising their child did make her nervous, but Bess confided that she had been terrified during the majority of her pregnancy and the first year of Michelle's life, even though her parents _and_ Dave's parents had been around to help her through it.

And Nancy knew that her mother's presence wouldn't have made her pregnancy any different or easier, but she couldn't help wishing that her mother was there. Whenever they discussed baby names, Nancy kept it in the back of her head, a desire to name a little girl after her own mother. She eventually mentioned it to Ned, who agreed with her. If they had a daughter, her middle name would be Catherine.

The doctor put Nancy on bed rest for the last three weeks before her projected due date, and a week early, Nancy and Ned were at the hospital. She was in labor ahead of schedule, and while Ned was doing his best to be calm, knowing that his agitation would just upset his wife further, Nancy could tell that Ned would make sure the best possible care was taken of her and their child—in the event Nancy herself was unable to do so.

Many of the women who had come to the baby showers thrown by her friends and family had told her such horror stories about their births: of falling into a chemical sleep in their hospital beds, waking to find that their babies had been born in their absence. A few told Nancy terrible stories of infants permanently scarred by the grip of forceps, born so sluggish that they actually needed to be resuscitated. The prospect of giving birth with only a few painkillers instead of succumbing to that strange twilight sleep held its own horrors too. Helen's friend Susan had delivered her second child without anesthesia or other medicines, and she said the pain was indescribable—but she had been conscious, and able to hold her baby in her arms right after the labor was over. They all assured Nancy that bottle-feeding was definitely the way to go, since she and Ned had the money to buy formula. The formula _had_ to be better for the baby. It was scientific. Besides, they said, what woman would _want_ her breasts to swell with milk for six months?

Nancy had taken all their suggestions into consideration, had even bought a few books about the birthing process, and while she had occasionally fought with her obstetrician over their plans for the birth, he seemed a rather reasonable man.

That had been before she had gone into labor early, though, and when they reached the hospital, both Nancy and Ned were keyed up and terrified that something could be wrong. Nancy distantly remembered that some women did go into labor prematurely with their first baby, but that didn't serve to assuage her fears much.

Her obstetrician suggested that Ned would be more comfortable waiting in the outer room while Nancy went through her labor, but with one glance between them, Ned shook his head. Nancy was already afraid, and the thought of going through the delivery of their child without him was just making her feel worse. He had been so supportive of her during her pregnancy, tried to do everything he possibly could to ease her mind and make her more comfortable, and he had no intention of stopping now. The obstetrician suggested again that Ned wait outside, but Ned said that he was staying put. His wife wanted him there and he was going to be there for her.

Her labor was long, but Ned stayed for all of it. He brought her ice chips when she was thirsty, wiped the sweat from her brow, held her hand during the terrible pains that left her trembling with relief when they were over.

Finally, very late that night, after pushing and pushing until she was exhausted, they heard the first cry. Nancy's face was wet with tears and sweat, and she had never been through an experience that had ever left her so worn-out and incredibly bone-tired as this one.

"It's a boy."

Nancy sighed in relief, tipping her head back, as Ned laughed, squeezing Nancy's hand. The nurse cleaned up their son and brought him over, and Nancy felt delirious.

Then she looked down into his face, his perfect face. The little boy who had grown inside her for so many months, the press of his tiny foot or hand sometimes bumping the inside of her belly, so firmly that Ned had been able to feel it when he had placed his hand over her flesh. The closer she had come to her delivery date, the more anxious she had felt to meet him, and the more terrified that she somehow never would. But he was here, five perfect miniature fingers on each waving hand, flushed and long-limbed.

"Hello, sweetheart," she cooed at him, her voice weak. "Hello, little one."

"Oh, Nancy," Ned murmured, his voice awestruck as he leaned over her shoulder to look at their baby. "I can't believe it."

Nancy smiled, gently brushing the back of her finger down their baby's cheek. "Mmm. You are so beautiful, little one. Do you want to meet your daddy?"

She could almost feel Ned's eagerness before she turned and let him take their son out of her arms, but she couldn't take her eyes off her husband's face. Ned was visibly moved, and the wonder and adoration on his face when he looked down at his son made Nancy warm and pleased.

"Oh... hello, little one," he whispered. "I've been waiting so long to meet you. I can't believe... oh my God."

Ned glanced over at his wife, and his dark eyes were gleaming. "He's perfect," Ned whispered. "Nan, I love you so much."

She gave him a tired smile. "I love you too."

They named him David Jason—Jason for both his grandparents, James and Carson—and he was born with tiny wisps of brown hair and blue eyes. Nancy had been told that all babies were born with blue eyes, but she couldn't help hoping that his wouldn't change color. Before Nancy left the hospital with him, her room was full of congratulatory flowers, and all their friends and family had visited. Carson, Hannah, Edith, and James were all beyond delighted to meet their first grandchild.

David's bassinet was in Nancy and Ned's bedroom, but the nursery was finished and ready for him. The crib had been polished and fresh clean linens put on the mattress. The dresser was stocked with tiny outfits. Other experienced mothers had given Nancy practically a medicine's cabinet worth of creams, salves, lotions, and bathtime shampoo for David. The last touch had been the rocking chair, which stood invitingly in the corner, a pillow on the seat, a quilted throw folded over the back. They had bottles, toys, diapers, everything anyone could have imagined they would need.

Edith arrived the first morning Nancy was going to be home alone with David. The baby was crying, and while Nancy, exhausted and nervous, changed his diaper, Edith went to the kitchen to prepare the baby's bottle. She showed her daughter-in-law how to hold it so David wouldn't draw air and need to burp quite so much later, and as Nancy settled in the corner of the couch still wearing her day dress, the warm squirming bundle of her son in her arm while she held the bottle with the other, Edith sat down beside her. Soon David quieted down, and the only sound was his rhythmic pull on the bottle.

Nancy sighed, then glanced over at Edith with a small smile on her face. "Thanks," she said. "You make it so much faster than we can do it yet."

"I had a lot of practice," Edith said with a smile, then looked down at David's face. "He's so handsome."

"He is," Nancy agreed, moving to settle more comfortably on the couch, then shushing David when he squirmed in answer. Nancy's body had changed so much during her pregnancy, and she wondered how long it would take her to get back to the way she had been—or if she ever truly would. "He's so tiny... so perfect."

"And life will be much easier once he sleeps through the night."

"Oh. Oh, I hope so." Nancy stifled a yawn with the back of her hand.

Edith poured them both cups of coffee, and once David had finished his meal, Nancy burped him. When Edith offered to hold him, Nancy passed him over to her, and Edith peered into his sleepy eyes and smiled at him.

"Hello, darling," Edith crooned softly at him. "Hello, little one. Are you sleepy? Would you like to let mommy get some rest?"

Nancy couldn't help stifling another yawn; she was so exhausted that the coffee had little effect. "I... Is he falling asleep?"

"He is," Edith said, keeping her eyes on him. She cuddled him to her. "And you'll get the most sleep while he's asleep. Go lie down; I'll be here."

Nancy was so tired that she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep as soon as her head touched the pillow, despite the light coming through the curtains. The longest David had slept in one stretch had been three hours, and although Nancy and Ned had only been alone with him for that first night, determining why he cried and what to do about it had been harder on little sleep. Nancy hadn't fully recovered from her long labor yet, and she still felt almost disconnected, a little like she was sleepwalking from exhaustion. Making David's bottle, changing his diaper, shushing and rocking him...

Eventually Edith would go home. She—she and Ned—would have to do this all themselves.

Hunger pangs woke Nancy, and Edith had a pot of soup simmering on the stove when Nancy pulled herself out of bed. She found her mother-in-law sitting in the rocking chair with David, and her arms ached to hold her son. Edith handed him over easily, and Nancy cuddled him close to her, shushing him as she gently patted his back. They went back to the living room, and Nancy smiled her thanks to Edith as she served them both bowls of soup with crackers.

David was just settling down after his next bottle, burping, and changing cycle when Nancy looked over at Edith. "Thank you," she said. "And I just want to apologize."

"Apologize?"

Nancy gently stroked David's back again, as he squirmed against her for a moment. "I didn't understand," she said. "I thought... _this_... would never work for me. I thought that Ned needed someone who... who could stay home and keep house for him, and I was so terribly sad when I thought that person wouldn't be me. And if you hadn't said anything, I don't know what would have happened.

"And I'm sorry that I... I was so upset when you said things would change after our baby was born. I didn't understand. I didn't want anything to change."

Edith just kept her sparkling, intelligent gaze on Nancy.

"But he's everything to me," Nancy admitted, her voice hushed. "David and Ned are everything to me. I love both of them so much."

Edith patted Nancy's knee. "I know you do," she said with a smile. "And it's impossible to explain how everything changes the first time you look into that little face..."

"Or the first time I felt him kick," Nancy said, nodding. "Oh, I'm so incredibly grateful for them both. And I am so glad, so happy to be with them."

"I'm glad you found a way to be happy together," Edith said. "It would have broken my heart if you two hadn't worked out. That first year of marriage, learning to be around each other, it's always hard."

Nancy nodded. "And I would never be able to find a sweeter, more considerate man," she said softly. She smiled when David made a soft sighing sound and snuggled against her.

"I hope I can raise your grandson to be like him."

Edith's smile broadened. "I think, with the two of you as his parents, it'll be tougher to keep him _out_ of trouble," she pointed out. "But he will undoubtedly have a good heart. And he already has such curious blue eyes..."

David was gazing up at his mother, and when Nancy looked down at him and smiled, he gurgled in response. "Hi, little one," she whispered. "Will you be like me, or like your daddy? I'll love you either way, but you really should be nice to Ned and like football, okay? Even if you like mysteries too, your daddy loves football, and I'm sure he would love to teach you how to play in a few years."

Nancy had no idea how she would have made it through those first few weeks at home with her son without Edith's help. Her moods were entirely unpredictable, and hearing David cry in the middle of the night could leave her feeling disoriented and upset for the rest of the day. Whenever she expressed any desire at all to go back to work, she watched Ned carefully for any sign that he wanted her to stay at home with the baby instead, but they had talked about it often during her pregnancy and he didn't seem to have changed his mind. His mother and Hannah were both more than willing to keep David while his parents were at work, and Bess even offered to watch him one day a week, just to get some experience with taking care of a little boy. "I just know Dave wants one," she had told Nancy, as she had cuddled David in her arms during a visit. "Especially now that Ned has one."

David was just over five weeks old when Nancy left him with Edith, making her mother-in-law promise to call if anything happened—even though Nancy knew Edith had infinitely more experience with taking care of an infant than Nancy herself, she still worried about him while she was at work. For her first day back McPherson had put her on light duty, covering a press conference at City Hall in the morning and writing it up for the next edition. Nancy felt strange not listening for David's cry, and she called home at lunchtime and then before she left work, just making sure everything at home was going all right.

Every night that week, when she returned home and was able to hold David in her arms again, Nancy breathed a sigh of relief. She missed him when she wasn't at home, and while she hated the thought of missing his first smile, his first laugh, his first steps, being able to go back to work had been good for her. She didn't envy Bess at all, at home all day with Michelle while Dave was at work, complaining when she called Nancy that their conversation was the first one she had held all day that wasn't in baby-speak.

Edith kept David on Mondays and Thursdays, Hannah on Tuesdays and Fridays, and Bess on Wednesdays. One Friday soon before Nancy and Ned's third anniversary, Nancy came home just after work, beating her husband in—while Ned was equal to the challenge of watching David until Nancy was home, Friday afternoon had been slow and the office had been almost dead—and Edith smiled as she handed David over.

"Hello, love," she told him, and David gave her his delighted, toothless grin. "Have you been good for Grandma Nickerson?"

"He's been a very happy boy today," Edith reported. "And you're sure about next weekend?"

Nancy nodded. "My father says he would love to spend some time with David while we go out for our anniversary," she said. "But if anything comes up, I'll be sure to let you know."

Before her mother-in-law left, Nancy went over the schedule with her, making sure that she knew when David would next need a feeding. She changed into one of her faded housedresses and scooped David up again, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek that made him coo with delight.

Edith was smiling again as she slipped into her light sweater. "You're a natural at this," she told Nancy.

Nancy kept gently stroking David's back as she looked at her mother-in-law. "Really?" she murmured, and she was surprised when she could feel tears rising in her eyes. She had spent so much of her pregnancy and the beginning of David's life terrified that she would screw this up, that she would be a bad mother—and convinced that Edith was judging her for going back to work instead of giving up her career to take care of their child. And, in all honesty, Nancy still worked hard, but she was also home almost every night, eager to see David again, to talk to Ned about his day.

Before, she and Ned had had each other, and she had thought that was all she really wanted. Now that they had David, though, she wouldn't give him up for worlds. Not even with all the hours of sleep lost, the cries shushed, bottles prepared, diapers changed. Not even the pain she had gone through delivering him, which felt almost like a dream now.

Hearing that Ned's mother actually thought she was doing a good job touched Nancy more than she could say.

Edith nodded. "Now you just have to decide when you're going to start trying for the next one," she said, a twinkle in her eye.

The Saturday night they celebrated their anniversary, Nancy put on the blue dress Ned had always loved on her, and they both kissed David goodbye before leaving him in Hannah's comforting embrace. Carson congratulated them both on their anniversary, his eyes lighting up as Hannah handed over his grandchild. "You're getting so big," Carson told him, wonder in his voice. "Tell your mommy that you want to see your Grandpa Drew more often, okay?"

On their way into the city from River Heights, Ned updated Nancy on one of the projects he was handling, thanks to the promotion he had been given a month before David was born. It had meant more responsibility, but Ned had kept a close eye on the staff and production managers for a long time, so the men he depended on were all reliable and hardworking, and had earned his trust. He had been able to delegate many of the tasks and limit the amount of overtime he was working—and he splurged for their anniversary meal, too. The restaurant was French and their meal was exquisite, and they both left full and happy, Nancy a little more tipsy than Ned thanks to the wine he had ordered with dinner.

"Shall we make a night of it, and go to the movies?" he asked.

Nancy smiled and shook her head. "Not tonight. Tonight I want to be able to relax with my husband," she told him, gently patting his knee. The expression in his eyes when he glanced over at her in response told her he was feeling the same way. "But I thought we might take a detour first."

"Oh?"

The subdivision they drove through was pleasant, the houses larger and more modern than theirs. While it wasn't quite as convenient to their workplaces, it did boast a new elementary school, and it would be closer to Nancy and Ned's parents. The yards were neat and well-groomed, with child-sized bicycles leaning against garages and carports.

"It's very nice," Ned commented, glancing over at Nancy. "Are... are you trying to tell me something, love?"

She shook her head. "Not yet," she said. "But I was talking to your mother, and... I think I would like for us to have another baby. Not _right now_ , but in a year or so. And if we do, I think we might need a bigger house." She sighed.

"But you don't sound happy."

"I love our house," she told him. "I love that we put so much work into it together. And a part of me hates the idea of moving out here, where all the houses look the same."

"We could build on again," Ned pointed out with a shrug. "Even add on a carport or a garage this time. Boy, wouldn't I love that on those cold January mornings." He shivered.

She smiled. "But if we fell in love with one out here..."

"Then we could definitely consider it." Ned lifted her hand, his fingers laced through hers, up to his lips so he could kiss her knuckles. "So you really want to do this again? Have another baby?"

She nodded. "I do. I was just so afraid the first time, that being a mother meant I couldn't really be myself anymore, but that's just not true. And I am so glad you've been so understanding, Ned. It's meant so much to me."

He smiled at her. "I told you to trust me," he murmured. "That night when you were trying to convince me that this would never work between us. Trust me and I will do everything in my power to make you happy. I know things haven't always been perfect..."

She reached up and cupped his cheek. "I don't know what I'd do with perfect," she told him. "I don't know what I'd do with a guy who let me walk all over him—or one who would try to walk all over me. It's strange; I hate when we fight, but I love that you're passionate enough to argue with me, and to treat me like what I have to say actually means something."

Ned chuckled. "Well, I hate it when we fight," he told her. "I'm not saying I want my own way all the time, except that I kind of do... but I hate seeing you upset, sweetheart. I do have one favorite part, though."

"Oh?"

"When we make up afterward."

Nancy giggled. "That's my favorite part too," she said. "And if we're very careful... I think we should go home and call my father to tell him we're in no condition to drive all the way out to River Heights, and then practice making David a little brother or sister, for a while."

"Mmmm. I was going to suggest ice cream for dessert, but _that_ plan sounds even better, love."

"And you know what sounds even better than _that_?" she asked, a twinkle in her eye. "Ice cream and then—bed."

Ned lifted her hand to his lips for one last kiss. "I knew I married you for a reason," he teased her.

"My crackerjack problem solving skills?"

"That, and your gorgeous body, your dazzling wit... and the way you never take 'no' for an answer. Not to mention that I was utterly, entirely in love with you."

"Was?" she repeated softly, glancing over at him.

"From the first time I saw you," he nodded. "Every moment inbetween. And now, especially now."

He pulled the car to a stop at the exit to the subdivision and Nancy leaned over, planting a lingering kiss on his cheek. "These have been the happiest three years of my life," she told him, smiling. "I can't wait to see what the next three will bring."

Ned turned his head and kissed her fully, and she knew there were stars in her eyes when he pulled back. "Even more," he told her, the low tone and hushed promise in his voice sending a shiver down her spine. "Trust me, baby."

"Always," she whispered, and rested her head against his shoulder, his arm around her waist, as they headed home.


End file.
